


Seeking Comfort

by Charlie9646



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character death’s pre fic, Dark, Drinking, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Isolation, Killing of minor character by major character, Mental Illness, Minor Character Death, Morally Grey Severus Snape, Nightmares, Pregnancy, Smut, Transgender Child, happy ending of sorts, mentions of minor character death, voldemort wins au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:42:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charlie9646/pseuds/Charlie9646
Summary: The war was over and the wrong side had won.Hermione and Severus believe they are some of the last surviving members of the order. Out of desperation to keep her safe he takes Hermione to a home once given to his mother by his grandfather.Being forced together can change how you view someone whether you like it or not.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 99
Kudos: 234





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the people who have helped with this. TriDogMom, Amanda and Christina
> 
> RavenpuffLove (who has listened to my whining about this for months).
> 
> My goal was to wait until this was finished to post it, but I believe a stock pile of eleven chapters should be good enough. The goal is a chapter once a week depending on how quickly I can write future ones.
> 
> Characters will be added to list of them as the story is updated. Tags may also be added (Major warnings will not.)

“Light can be found in even the darkest of moments.”

Hermione was genuinely grateful for Severus and all he had done for her and the Order, but that did not change the fact Ron’s death felt like a gaping wound in her chest. She wished she could say it happened in some great battle as a heroic sacrifice, but she couldn’t. It had been a sheer accident. 

Ron had been sneaking back into the castle and was caught unaware by Lucius Malfoy. Despite his fall from grace during the war and after, the Death Eater acted with clear thought and conviction. From what Severus had told Hermione, Ron hadn't even known it was happening. One second the man was alive, and the next he was dead.

A part of Hermione was jealous of him and wished she too was dead, day by day piece by piece it felt as if her heart was being picked at. Each day in the beginning that passed brought news of more dead, until the news stopped and it felt as if there was no one else. No one else was alive or at least that it was what it seemed. Ron was not the thing that made her wish she was, he was simply the final nail in the coffin of her soul. As she trekked through the ankle-deep snow it soaked through her boots and jeans. Though the sun was out, she shivered in her heavy cloak, the wind whipping around her. She looked up at the man she was following whose black hair fell down his back. . He was like a black mark on the white landscape; a black blot of ink on a page of white parchment. Severus wasn’t the same man she had known from her Hogwarts days.

Hermione didn’t know what had made her trust the man, but a feeling in her very core told her she should trust him. They were going to a cottage that had been Severus’ grandfather’s. It had been the long-dead man’s last desperate attempt to try and save his daughter and grandson. Eileen had refused the outstretched hand, but upon the woman’s death, it had gone to her son and now would keep Hermione and Severus safe. 

This cottage in Scotland would be their safe haven, but also their prison. 

Severus opened the heavy oak door, and Hermione stepped inside the home. She felt a sense of both redemption and pain. This place would keep her safe, but did it really matter much if it also killed her soul?

***************************

Hermione dug into her beaded bag and pulled out the remains of what had once been her life. The tales of  _ Beedle the Bard _ that had once been Dumbledore’s, the Deluminator that had been Ron’s, her copy of  _ Hogwarts: A History.  _ She placed them on the bookshelf in the main room. Severus had brought with him mostly potion ingredients and he spread them out across the kitchen table. 

”Severus, could you show me to my room?” Hermione asked, wanting to get to work on putting her small amount of clothing away. 

”There is only one, Hermione.” Severus said, not bothering to look away from what he was doing. It still unnerved her that he used her first name, but they had grown to be something resembling friends during their time after the war was lost. Years ago she never would have thought of referring to him as Severus, and yet she was. The world had changed quite a bit and their own little worlds had significantly changed. ”I’ll sleep on the sofa, and you can take the bedroom.”

”No, you will not,” she snapped. ”Severus, this is your home, and I’m the guest.” 

”Still so utterly insufferable,” Severus growled. He snatched up her beaded bag and stomped off like some sort of great beast. 

”That’s mine!” Hermione cried out, on his heels trying to steal it back from him. ”The only insufferable one I see is you, Snape.”

They reached the small bedroom, its hardwood floor creaking as she stepped on it. Hermione watched as Severus unceremoniously threw her bag onto the bed. 

”The bed is big enough if you insist that I sleep in it, we can share, ” Severus muttered, ”It’s not like I have any interest in doing anything to you. I have zero interest in a former student, let alone a little know-it-all such as yourself.”

Hermione thought to herself, “ _ Yes, Ron  _ was  _ the lucky one _ .” Removed from this troubled world and all its trappings and emotions. She slammed a fist into the pillow next to her. Once, then another time, and one more for good measure. Hermione rested her head on it and screamed. She was twenty-four years old. She had spent most of her time over the last few years locked up in Hogwarts, but there at least she had Ron. 

Not to say they didn't drive each other completely bonkers at times, they did, but they always had. He was her sense of normalcy and balance in a world that lacked such things. Severus still had some of the bite he did years ago, but he too had been ground down by the war. Hermione was sure he still blamed himself for Harry’s death. 

It was no more his fault than it was hers or Ron’s. Everything just seemed to crumble under the force of the rock that was Bellatrix Lestrange. Hermione wasn't one for killing, but if she ever got the chance - that woman would be the first and only person she had ever murdered. Hermione would send the bitch straight to the hell she was destined to end up in. 

The pillow smelled clean, like laundry soap. It made Hermione think of a time before this, before hiding, before being locked away like some zoo animal. Before, when it did not feel as if she was some caged lioness pacing back and forth in her small enclosure. Back to a time when Harry’s laughter filled her ears. long ago when her greatest worry seemed to be whether or not Ron liked her. To the time when her parents still had their memories. When Severus was Professor Snape, the man who the very idea of sharing a bed with would have sent her running for the hills. 

She flopped onto her back and laid on the old quilt, arm over her head. Hermione knew she should put her things away, but it felt good to lay on the comfortable bed. She sighed. 

Severus stuck his head back in and said, ”Just because we have all the time in the world doesn't mean you can lay about like some sort of lump.”

Hermione groaned, ”Must you be so insufferable?”

”Must you assume you're the only one who mourns him?”

”Must you assume that I don’t know you do?” Hermione snapped, ”Both of us miss him, both of us wish we could have done something, and both of us wish we could take his place. Now, where should I put my things?”

”You can have the bottom drawers of the dresser, ” Severus said, ”I will take the top.”

Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her stocking covered feet landed on the wooden floor. The cold of the floor was felt through the wool of her socks. Hermione reached into her bag and pulled out her clothes quickly. She pulled out her jeans, jumpers, underwear, and a shirt that had once been Ron’s. She knew she ought to throw it away after the man’s death, but she could not, would not. Hermione clung to it for a moment, but then set it in the dresser drawer. 

Hermione grabbed the window sill and pulled herself up. Walking back to the main part of the house, she found Severus chopping up what little food he had brought with him. He had his back to her; sleeves rolled up to his elbows. 

“What are you making?” Hermione asked.

“Soup, it’s the easiest.” Severus said, “And it should be good with how cold it is.” 

“It should be,” Hermione said. “I’m sorry, Severus, for snapping at you. The last few years have been hard to say the least.”

“I know, and thank you.” Severus muttered, “Dinner should be done soon.”

She gave up on saying anything else taking the hint that the conversation was over.

**************************

Hermione enjoyed the steam of the hot shower she enjoyed. This was, for her, a bit of an escape. Closing her eyes she replayed the events of the last few days. This was to be her new normal. There was always a new normal. Hermione stepped out of the shower to an empty loo. She dressed quickly. . As she yanked harshly through her curls, she closed her eyes working methodically through the knots. She reasoned it must have been why she didn’t hear him come in. Unexpectedly, Severus was behind her. ”You know if you would like to cut it, there are easier ways of cutting your hair than ripping it out by the roots. There are spells for such things and it would be less painful.”

“Give it here,” he said and took the brush from her hands, slowly pushing it through her hair. It was soothing, comforting. Mind-numbing even. When Severus finished, he set it aside and whispered, ”Hermione, go try and get some rest. We need to figure out what we have in the basement tomorrow that's edible.”

With that, it felt the spell that seemed to be on both of them broke. Hermione stepped into the bedroom and left him to get ready for bed. She took the side closest to the dresser and curled up under the blankets. A little while later Severus joined her under the covers - as far away as the bed would allow, but she could still feel the warmth of his body. 

Hermione thought about getting closer to him but didn’t dare. Severus Snape may have become a friend over the years since the war had ended, but he was certainly not her lover. She was merely lonely, and he was the closest person within a hundred kilometres. 

Or at least that's the lie she told herself. 

Hours later, Hermione woke to the sound of her own screams tearing through her throat. A nightmare - her mind supplied, not that she remembered it, thank Merlin. But that did not change the fear she felt. It felt like a blanket of fear was wrapped around her, as if someone had a pillow shoved against her face. She could not catch her breath. 

Hermione tried to think of anything, anything else but the ghosts of the past. But all her mind seemed capable of conjuring was the war and all it had taken from her.

Then his strong arms were around her. Severus was comforting her. He muttered, ”It's just a dream, I swear it, Hermione, it's just a dream. You’re safe. I’m here. I  _ will  _ make sure of it - that you stay safe.”

Sleep overtook her again, in the arms of Severus Snape. She believed him. Hermione knew that no matter what if they stayed together they were safe. He had always done that hadn't he? Kept them safe? Even though it didn’t seem like it at the time since Harry’s life was taken, but now more than ever.

Monsters were needed to fight the monster, though some you could call a friend.

************************

Hermione found Severus sitting on the sofa the next morning drinking tea as if nothing had happened the night before. So she too acted as if nothing had happened. 

”The kettle’s on the stove?” She asked him, ”If not, where is it?”

”It's still on the stove, Hermione, ” Severus said to her, ”Mugs are in the cabinet above the sink.”

She nodded at him and then went to work, making herself a cup of tea. 

”Did you already eat breakfast?” Hermione asked.

”No, Hermione, but I am not hungry.” 

”You should eat to keep up your strength. We need to be strong...”

Severus raised an eyebrow at her, ”Hermione, I haven't eaten breakfast since I was a student at Hogwarts. Make something for yourself if you wish, but please stop mother henning me.”

Hermione grumbled but kept her mouth shut; the man needed more meat on his bones. He always had been thin, but the stress over the years had undoubtedly not helped him. 

The tea kettle whistled, and Hermione made her own cup. Oatmeal was the easiest thing to make. She threw it in a pot and waited for it to cook. Hermione stirred it harshly wondering how long they were supposed to hide away like mice waiting for the snake to slither in their hole and devour them. When he did finally come for them, would they beg for life or death? Would death feel like freedom in itself once he did come? 

”Are you trying to ruin one of our few good pots?” Severus asked, looking over her shoulder. He turned off the burner. ”If so, there are better ways to do it than beating oatmeal around in it.” His tone was sarcastic and moody. He was still Professor Snape under the care that seemed to grow for her. Hermione was one of the few who he could be honest with, and he was one of the people who wouldn't kill her on sight.

Hermione saw that while she was misplaced in her own thoughts, Severus had set her out breakfast. A spoon was sitting in the bowl waiting for her.

”Thank you,” she said to no one, as Severus had vanished into thin air. Something he did quite often. Something that Hermione had grown to accept was something he just did. She dug into her breakfast at the old table, tracing the ancient groves on the surface with her finger, getting lost in the patterns - it was not like Hermione had anything better to do.

She fiddled with the old radio in the corner, trying to get it to turn to a proper radio station. Music would brighten up the darkness that seemed to overwhelm everything in the world. Instead of music though, something that made her sick filled her ears. Hermione heard, through what she assumed was the little that was left of the Order, that Arthur Weasley was dead; killed by Death Eaters the day before. 

Hermione barely made it to the sink before losing the little bit of food she had eaten. She ran water to wash away her vomit. Then splashed her face with the cold water and sighed. She shut off the water. Nothing, it seemed, would allow her to escape. Not even a radio. 

Hermione washed her dishes and before putting them away. Still restless, she scrubbed the counters, tables, and anything else she could. Hermione swept and mopped the floor. She dug through the icebox, seeing what they had. Eggs, a pitcher of water, milk, leftover soup and some vegetables. Potatoes and bread were also on top of it. Oatmeal sat on the counter, and quite a bit of it. 

They weren’t going to starve, but it was going to be days on end of the same. 

She supposed Severus could try to buy items in a muggle town. ‘  _ But didn't he say stuff was in the basement?’  _

Hermione found the door and whispered,  _ ‘Lumos’ _ . She slowly walked down the narrow, steep stairs clutching the railing tightly. The house was likely three times older than her. She was grateful when she reached the bottom and was again on truly solid ground - Lumos or not. 

Flour, under stasis charms, was in containers that lined the walls as well as cans. Not ones that you would find in Muggle shops, but real old-fashioned cans. She knew what some of them were, but could only guess the rest of them. Marcus Prince it seemed (by what had been left behind) was just as weird as Severus had told her the man was.

Hermione grabbed a jar of jam, and a few random cans of vegetables. She ignored the brown cans that she assumed were filled with meat. She was even slower making her way back up the steep stairs than she had been as she descended them. 

She sat the cans on the counter, and planned to show them to Severus when he came back from wherever he was. 

***********************

A few hours later, after much waiting, Hermione decided to go looking for Severus. She found him outside in a shed digging through its ancient contents. After being trapped in Hogwarts with nothing to do but stay alive, Hermione was used to being idle, but the former Headmaster was not. Sometimes while he sat reading, she was sure his mind was trying to decipher complex problems. To the average person, it wouldn’t seem like he was doing anything, but to someone that knew him well, she could see the wheels turning behind his black eyes.

”What did you tell the Dark Lord that caused him to allow you to leave Hogwarts?” Hermione asked Severus.

Severus did not answer her. Instead, the man shoved a rake inside and dug deeper into the pile of clutter. Hermione reached out for him, and he pulled away from her touch, snarling at her, ”Can’t you find something else to occupy yourself, Granger? You can obviously see I’m busy?”

”Fine! Whatever! You dragged me off to Merlin, knows where and will tell me nothing about exactly why we’re here. I trust you, Snape, that's why I haven't asked tons of questions.” Hermione snapped, ”But you know what? I have a right to know how long I have left to live. I have a right to know what at least some of your plan is! So answer my one question, what did you tell him to allow you to leave?”

”I told him I am working on a potion to stop Muggleborns from being born!” Severus shouted at her and grabbed onto her arms. ”Do you see why I didn’t want to tell you now, Granger? Do you now know why it's something I don't want to talk about?”

”You're not going to make it, are you?” She asked him with fear in her voice. ‘ _ Currently Muggleborns were being taken as slaves or killed so this might be in the best interest for the children.’ _ Hermione mused, silently. 

”You know, for someone so smart, Hermione, you are utterly stupid at times.” He laughed painfully. ”There is nothing I can do for them; I don't honestly believe there is a way to stop Muggleborns from being born. Part of me wonders if they aren't just the descendants of Squibs. Not that would matter much to the Dark Lord, all things considered.” 

Severus sat on the ground now, his legs nearly giving out on him. 

Hermione sat down next to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. For once, Severus did not pull away. ”I’m sorry, Severus. I’m sorry that you are just as trapped as I am.” Her voice cracked as she spoke. ”There has to be a way for us to leave this horrible place. I know I should want to save them, but I am tired of fighting. even if not wanting to continue on makes me an awful person. I am just tired, tired of it all. But mostly tired of losing people.”

Severus’s pale fingers brushed across Hermione’s cheek. He kissed her forehead and whispered, ”Hermione, there is nothing wrong with being tired of it all. If I can figure out a way to leave this place then we’ll go together, I promise.” He stood and helped her up afterwards. ”There is nothing really useful in here until the spring, and we can plant a garden. Let's go inside and get warm. We can have leftover soup for dinner.”

Hermione nodded along, but the strangest thing was that part of her wished Severus had kissed her lips, not her forehead. And the butterflies that filled her belly at his touch, seemed to have stuck around. Maybe it was the loneliness that at times overwhelmed her; perhaps it was the fact that Severus, in his own way, had grown kinder to her, or maybe, just maybe, it was only that she was a woman, and he was a man.

It did not matter, surely as she stood, that Severus Tobias Snape did not share her feelings. Caring about her was one thing, but he certainly did not love her. No matter how much a part of her hoped he did. 

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

“A lot of what weighs you down isn’t even yours to carry.”

Hermione sat in a chair and watched the snow fall outside. The fire felt warm, comfortable even, but her thoughts played hopscotch in her mind. Severus was in town trying to get food; in a Muggle town. They could only live off of soup and vegetables for so long. She sighed and tried to pick up where she left off in her book. Hermione reread the same paragraph and again, still not any making sense of it. 

It shouldn't be that hard - it wasn't complicated - it was a bloody Muggle fiction book. But her mind kept launching back to thoughts of Severus. Was he okay? Was he safe? When would he be back? Hermione was not his keeper, not his wife, and yet she cared for him as if he was the most important thing in her - because in a way he was. 

Severus Snape, when she was not watching, had become a friend, and maybe even family. At least to her, Merlin only knew what he saw her as. Hermione marked her page and set aside her book. Speaking of Severus, she heard someone kicking the snow off their boots outside of the door. Hermione stood, walked over to the door wand held out - just in case it wasn’t Severus and instead was someone with a nefarious purpose. 

Hermione twisted the brass doorknob and opened the door. Severus stood there holding canvas bags in his hands, snow in his inky black hair, and a snarl on his face. ”Either help or get out of the way, would you?” He snapped, ”I haven't got all day to sit out here in this bloody snow.”

Hermione took a couple of the bags from him and carried them to the table. She muttered over her shoulder, ”You know you don't have to be such an arse, right?”

”And I didn't have to get the cake mix you asked for, Hermione.” Severus said, ”Accept it - you don't keep me around for my pleasant personality.”

”Thank you, Severus," Hermione said, ”How was the town?”

”Fine, very, very Muggle, but I don't think you should go out in it. In case...”

”Some witch or wizard trying to make a Galleon off my hide, is passing through,” she said in a monotone voice, ”Because even after all these years I am an undesirable person.”

”Unfortunately you are," he said as he backed her up against the counter, ”Sometimes you are far more trouble than you’re worth.” 

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him, ”You’re more trouble than you’re worth.” Severus leaned over her. She rested her hand on his cheek.

”We shouldn't do this,” he muttered. 

”Why shouldn't we?” She asked him. ”The world doesn't care about either of us. And even if it did - I no longer care what the world thinks.” Hermione kissed him, and Severus kissed her back. His hands buried themselves in her curls as Hermione's hands wrapped around his shoulders. Severus’s body turned as rigid as ice; he yanked away from her.

”No. No.” Severus slammed his fist on the counter. ”No, Hermione, we cannot do this.” 

”Severus...” Hermione reached out for him; her fingers brushed against his wool coat, trying to grasp at it. He jumped back as her hands were claws. 

”No, Hermione... No. This is not a good idea.”

”Why isn't it?” She snapped at him and hit her own fist into her palm. The sound was louder than she thought it would be. ”Because of what others might think? There is no one around to speculate why we are doing this but ourselves. No one cares. Not anyone. Those who would are in the ground rotting. Don't we both deserve at least some happiness?” 

Hermione rested her hand on Severus’ cheek. 

”No, Hermione, you’re only doing this because you're lonely," He growled and shoved her hand off his face. ”I was once your professor. I admit whilst I was horrible at the job - I never wanted to sleep with a student - I am not a monster.”

”You were never a monster Severus Tobias Snape," Hermione held his chin in her hand, ”You may have once been my professor, but now Severus, you are my friend, my family, and if you ever let your heart lead your way, my lover. You are all I want - all I desire, if you will have me.”

”I am going to hell," Severus muttered holding Hermione’s face in his hand. He brushed her cheek, causing her to shiver and stare into his deep, bottomless black eyes. They were like ocean pools on the deepest, darkest nights. Dangerous and calming in ways she could barely begin to understand. ”Hell is what I deserve, and I will warrant every second of my punishment. But, I will not go for this.”

Hermione shut her eyes as they filled with tears. When she opened them - Severus had vanished into thin air. 

Something must be wrong with her. Inevitably if there weren't, Snape wouldn't have turned her down. Severus Snape was a man - a man like any other; certainly, he had desires and sexual urges. In all the years she had known him he had never been with anyone. Maybe Severus was gay or asexual? But wouldn't he just simply tell her if that was the case?

Hermione thought, after how Severus had behaved all of those years, to Harry, blaming him for merely existing and looking like his father. Neville and all Severus had done to make that boy who would never get to be a man - scared of his own shadow. Why was this sin different? Why did this one cross a line? Because it wasn't for the greater good, but would merely bring both of them comfort? Why was that so different or less worthy of breaking the rules than dosing out suffering? Or was it to do with Lily  _ Bloody  _ Evans-Potter?

Hermione snarled at the mere thought of the woman. Nearly twenty-three years the woman had been dead, and yet Severus, it seemed, could not let her go. Was it love, or was it merely an obsession? Was it this fairytale he had told himself so many times that he had started to believe it?

Was Severus Snape choosing a distant memory, a fantasy, instead of the person who had grown to care for him? Hermione was no longer his student, and he was not a professor anymore. 

She put away the things he had bought in town. She touched the box of dark chocolate cake mix- the mix Severus did not know that Hermione had asked for with him in mind. Maybe it was foolishness to think that anything could become of them. Perhaps it was madness to chase after a man who seemed to struggle with a clear desire for you, but lacked a willingness to act on it. But for once in all the years of her life - over half of which she had experienced suffering pouring down on her like rain - his rejection seemed to become a crescendo of pain that had taken place over the last few years, a hurricane of heartache. 

Hermione decided to try and earn the heart of Severus Snape, whose mind might say one thing to him, and even his voice might follow suit on that. But, she would bet anything - his heart said the same thing his actions did. The same thing that her own heart told her; there was something right about them. The two lonely broken-hearted people trying to make their way in a broken world. 

If only Severus would for, once in his life, completely let someone in his heart. Allow himself to love another who loved him back - not some distant fantasy of a long-dead childhood friend who did not feel the same. 

Hermione wondered if she would have been alone as Severus had been after the first war. Would she have clung to the memory of what could have been with Ron? They had never acted on their feelings. They had never taken it further than comforting one another. She would never know the answer because, whether or not she and Severus liked it, for now until one decided to leave this cottage, they were not alone. And maybe, just maybe, that was for the best.

****************************

Hermione was alone now - far more isolated than she had been in what felt like months. Severus was Merlin only knew where. He had been gone for three days. He hadn't taken his things. His dressing gown still hung on the back of the bedroom door, his clothes still in the dresser. Severus surely wouldn't leave his potion supplies, would he?

Hermione pulled the pillow to her chest; she was alone now with her own thoughts. They were like a ping pong ball bouncing off the corners of her mind. She shouldn't care that Snape of all people was gone, with his bitter temper, his snide comments, his insufferable personality, and yet she did. Hermione did. 

She heard it then, the sound of the heavy oak door being shoved open, and then something heavy falling on to the floor. Hermione jumped and ran out into the central part of the house. She made an odd noise that might have been a squeak at the sight before her. Hermione saw him, Severus, soaking wet with sleet and snow. He was on his knees, a pile of robes and wool. 

”Severus,” she cried out. 

”Hermione,” he muttered. ”I am a stupid fool, aren't I?” 

”You are, but so am I,” Hermione said, and then bluntly asked him, ”Where have you been?”

”Pretending to be a Muggle,” Severus growled, ”Trying to find what is left of the Order - getting soaked in this miserable weather and missing you terribly.” 

Hermione’s stomach turned at the smell of whiskey on his breath. ”You’re drunk, aren't you?” She asked. 

”Maybe a little bit." He tried to stand up but lost his balance and ended up back on the ground.

”There is no such thing as a little drunk, Severus," Hermione snapped. ”You can sleep out here, alone. When you, Severus Snape, have sobered up,  _ then  _ we can talk like the adults we both are. See you in the morning.”

”I deserve that, don't I?” Severus asked, his tone, so utterly sad.

”You do,” she muttered, before pausing. Pity filled her and she continued. ”But I can't follow through with it. Come on, Sev, let's get you out of those wet clothes and to bed.”

Hermione helped the man up. She hadn’t realised, because he was thin at the best of times, his considerable height made him quite heavy until she had to half-lead, half-carry him to the bedroom. Once they reached the bed, he started to strip his soaked clothing off. He didn’t seem to care much for his own modesty or her sensitivity. Not that she had much honestly, having shared a tent with two men all those years ago, it wasn't as if Hermione had not seen it before. 

Severus’s cloak ended up on the floor; the rest was folded and set on a chair next to the bed. Hermione dug sleep clothes out of Severus’s part of the dresser. Warm, soft, brushed cotton bottoms that had seen better days and a holey black undershirt. She tossed them at him, and he put them on quickly. Hermione could not help but stare at Severus’s pale, scarred skin. Some white with age and others were pink, speaking to how new they were. She helped the man into the shared bed and brushed his long wet hair out of his face.

Severus smiled at her and said in a whisper, ”Thank you, Hermione.”

”You're welcome Severus." Hermione joined him in the bed turning away from him. She was trying so desperately to keep a distance from him, but the truth was she wanted to wrap her arms around the man; cling to him as if he was her lifesaver and she had been drowning in a vast ocean. Sometimes it felt like the waves of life were dragging her down, suffocating Hermione on dry land. There was no escape; this was not a nightmare she could wake up from, but the truth was, sometimes she didn't want to. 

Hermione had not dreamed of this life growing up, but there were aspects she had grown to love.

”You deserve better, Hermione," Severus confided in her. ”Better than I believe I am capable of being.”

”Severus Snape, I believe that is for me to decide, not you,” Hermione said firmly. ”It is my life after all, even though I have very little control of it. I am the one who gets to decide who is and isn't worthy of my love. And whether or not you accept it, Severus, I love you.”

She flipped over to face his back and her arm locked like a vice around the man’s narrow waist. He did not shove her away and instead leaned into her arms. Severus uttered, ”I love you, too, Hermione Granger. Even if it's the doom of us both.”

****************************

Hermione woke up to Severus’s long fingers brushing against her forearm. He drew patterns on her skin. She sighed and shut her eyes once more, desperate to hold onto the feeling of peace and the closeness that they now shared. 

”I think we should try and find what's left of the Order, Hermione," Severus muttered, ”And if we do, you should join them.”

”What about you, Severus?” Hermione asked him, ”Will you join me as well?”

Silence. Total utter silence. 

”Severus," She snapped. ”They know you were on our side!”

”They will never accept me- the killer of Albus Dumbledore.”

Hermione rolled over and pinned Severus to the bed, his long pale arms above his head. She felt his morning hardness press against her core, but chose to ignore it for the moment. ”And  _ he  _ ordered you to do it, Severus Snape, you begged him not to. You may as well have had a wand to your head with the lack of choice you had. Answer one question: is a man a monster if he follows the orders given to him and the actions he takes are for the greater good?” 

Severus flipped her over as if she weighed nothing; he held Hermione's wrists in one large hand, brushed her cheek softly with his lips. His hardened cock, that he seemed unaware of, poked her stomach. Hermione knew it wasn't the time for such thoughts. And he was so angry, so upset. His eyes conveying some great beast wanting to tear it's prey to shreds. This man was capable of doing real damage to someone. He had survived two wars, spied on one of the darkest wizards of all time, and made the man believe he was a loyal follower. 

Severus Snape may have been capable of hurting her, but while his grip was firm, it caused no pain. His deep drawl snapped her out of such thoughts, ”If he knows the orders are wrong, he is just as guilty as the man who gave them. 

World War II, such questions were asked by society after the war was over. They decided that the Nazis who knowingly committed such crimes, even if they were ordered to, were just as guilty as those who gave them.” He muttered, ”So I am just as guilty as those who gave me the orders, Hermione. I have done so many things wrong in my life; killing Albus Dumbledore wasn't the first or the last.”

Severus let go of her wrists and kissed Hermione, his long-fingered hand snaking under her shirt. Thumb rubbing against her pebbling nipple. She hooked her one leg around his waist.

”Hermione, you feel the need to insist that I am some innocent person - someone worth saving. I am tired of trying to make you listen to that I am not. You seem to believe that we could make this work and part of me hopes you’re right.” 

Severus pulled Hermione’s sleep shirt over her head roughly, but to make up for it, he kissed her. Their hips met. Hermione pulled away and yanked Severus’s own shirt off. Her hands gripped his pale back, and she kissed the man again. Hermione bucked into him, whining at the feeling of his cock and he grounded into her core. 

Hermione pulled away from him and said, ”You  _ are  _ worth loving Severus - whether you see it or not.”

”I hope you are right, Hermione," Severus muttered, ”For both our sakes.” He kissed her again and hooked her other thigh around his hips. They pressed together - moving against each other - finding pleasure in each other’s bodies. 

Severus pulled away, breathless, then kissed, nipped, and sucked on Hermione's neck. He snaked his long fingers into her sleep pants pressing his thumb into her clit. The feel of his fingers finally touching her sent shivers throughout her body.

”You like that, don't you?” He whispered in her ear, ”You're so bloody wet, aren't you? Are you close Hermione? Merlin, I can't get enough of you; you insufferable little know it all. I think of a far better use for that mouth though.” 

'Hermione tightened her legs around his waist before using her strength to flip them over. She pinned him down, and shockingly Severus allowed it.'. Slipping her hand under the waistband of his pyjamas, she wrapped her hand around his cock. Pumping slowly, she felt a confidence that she rarely did about such things. He certainly had done this before, and that thrilled her and made her feel insecure as well. Severus’s cock felt heavy in her hand as Hermione’s thumb gathered the fluid at the tip. 

His body tightened like a bowstring under her touch. ”Anything to add, Severus? Cat got that snarky tongue of yours?”

Severus balled up his fist and placed it over his mouth but it still did not stop his moans from escaping. His long, limbed frame shook, then clenched. Whimpers and sighs escaped his mouth as he came all over his stomach. 

Summoning a tissue, he cleaned himself off before banishing it to the waste bin. 

”You're some sort of fantastic creature, Hermione Jean Granger," Severus muttered and shut his eyes, ”Now let's get you out of this ugly bottoms.”

”They aren't ugly," Hermione cried. ”And even if they are, they are comfortable.”

”They will look far better on the floor," he laughed. ”Unless you don't want to continue this?” Severus stared at her with his coal-black eyes and raised one eyebrow. He looked rather serious, but then gave her an odd, strange smile he barely ever gave anyone.

”I want you, Severus," Hermione took a deep breath and then said, ”In any way I can have you.”

”You shouldn't say things like that, Hermione," Severus growled, ”I might take advantage of that fact.”

”What if I want you to take advantage of me?” She asked as she leaned over him.

Severus ripped off her snowflake covered sleep bottoms before pulling her knickers off. He threw both somewhere unseen onto the floor. Hermione laid back onto the pillows as Severus spread her legs. Kissing her belly, he slowly moved his way down her body before taking her clit into his mouth. She moaned as he gave a hard suck and slipped a finger inside her, fucking her with it.

Hermione's fingers tangled into his black hair; it was soft between her fingers. ”God’s, fucking hell, right there.” 

Severus pulled away, moving his thumb to rub against her clit, and said, ”That's not my name.” 

Hermione was close, so close, chasing after something that felt like having a live wire stuck under her skin. ”Please.” She was crying out, barely hearing herself as she did so. And then she felt it, the tightening in her belly, the little shocks coursing through her body. Her muscles tightened, and then it was the exact opposite- as if every single part of her just let go.

Hermione shut her eyes - for once her mind that always seemed to jump from thought to thought - was silent. Severus pulled the blankets back over them, tossing off his own sleep bottoms before doing so. He spooned behind Hermione, arms around her and kissed her wild curls. 

”We need to figure out whatever this is, Hermione," He said softly. “And what we want it to be.”

”Severus, we have all the time in the world to do that," Hermione mumbled. ” Let's just enjoy it for a little while, this feeling and each other. Let me forget.”

”When we wake up, then we can talk.” His hand rested on her belly, teasing that they could do so much more than sleep, though Severus did not do any more to act on it.

For once, the man known for his ramblings-on in odd poetic ways, and the woman who at times thought she knew everything, both said nothing. The silence was comfortable between the two though, like the softest of cashmere blankets. For once in a long time, they both were at true peace. They fell back asleep in the morning light of day, but it was not as if either had anything to do or anywhere to be.

They were not in prison, but trapped all the same. In this moment, though, Hermione and Severus had found a way to steal a little bit of comfort back. A little bit of what the world used to be - and what it might one day be again. 


	3. Chapter 3

”What's meant to be will always find a way.”

Hermione and Severus never did have that proper sit-down conversation about what their relationship was. But they also couldn't seem to keep their hands off each other. They seemed addicted to each other’s touch. Today was Severus’s birthday - he insisted that Hermione didn't need to do anything, that it was just another day, and it didn't matter. Hermione shoved a chunk of the plain non-icing covered dark chocolate cake in Severus’s mouth. He moaned at the taste. 

”You know you're rather a bit of an idiot for such a smart man, Severus," Hermione laughed. ”You deserve to have your birthday celebrated, but also I am doing this for myself - we both need something happier and your birthday just happens to be it. But I am sure I can come up with another present.” 

Severus stared down at her. Hermione was wearing his button-down shirt and it hung off her much smaller frame. He raised an eyebrow and shoved a piece of the cake into Hermione’s own mouth, his thumb brushing along her lip as he did so. ”It’s only noon, Hermione, surely it would be silly to go back to bed before the day is even halfway over.”

”It’s not like we have anywhere to be," she muttered. ”Just days and days of the same things. Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

’'No where else to be Hermione. Now, did anyone ever teach you not to tease people?'’ Severus muttered as his hands went under her shirt. He pulled her with him to the kitchen chair and sat her in his lap. ”Even if we could go anywhere, you are dressed so utterly indecently, and I don’t want anyone else within a hundred yards of you. I don’t like to share, though I do enjoy the sight of you in my shirt.”

He kissed her then, his hand tangled into her wild curls at the nape of her neck. Hermione pulled away from him and placed her finger on his lips, ”Severus, I have other ideas besides going out in public. Maybe I can give you your present early?”

”What would my present be?” he muttered, placing his hands on her hips, ”Will it be something I enjoy far more than cake?”

”Hey! I didn't put icing on it," Hermione cried out.

”Which I am grateful for, and I am shocked that you remembered that I don't like it.” 

”Why wouldn't I?” she asked him. 

”Because I never told you?” Severus remarked to her. ”Because most people barely ever pay attention.” His hand stroked her bare thigh up and down, causing her to shiver. 

”I am not most people, Severus. I remembered that when I made one for Ron that one time, and you refused to eat the icing,” Hermione whispered, ”But I am sure you can understand that better than anyone.”

”I do.” He kissed her, pale fingers undoing the buttons of the shirt she wore. ”Merlin, I don't deserve you.” 

“You do, Severus," she whispered. ”And one day I will figure out a way to get it through your thick head. Now should we finish your present in bed?”

”Yes, I think we should.” 

Hermione untangled from Severus and started to make her way to the bedroom. She threw off her borrowed shirt, and then her shorts followed. Hooking her fingers into the band of her knickers, she slipped them off before throwing them over her shoulder. Hermione admitted to herself that the central part of their relationship was physical, but there wasn't much else to do. 

Some people went into the world that had seemingly turned to hell, some drank away their feelings, some shut themselves off, and others tried to escape into the arms of another person. Hermione reached the bed turning down the blankets of the bed. 

Coming up behind her, Severus wrapped his arms around her and leaned his head down to kiss her neck. Whispering to her, his lips brushed her ear with each word. ”I have an idea for you to be able to leave the house, at least for a few hours.” 

She sat down on the bed and tucked her knees under her chin, ”What’s your idea?”

“Polyjuice, which you know quite a bit about from what I remember correctly.”

”But aren't wards around wizarding buildings that remove such enchantments?” Hermione asked, ”And wouldn't it still be dangerous if the potion failed?”

”One of the best potioneers in the British isles will be making yours, Hermione.” She felt his fingers trace patterns on her legs. Sending sparks where he touched.

”Beyond that we could simply avoid the wizarding world. See a Muggle show? Go shopping for things we need? Remind ourselves about the world outside of this place? Remember how the world used to be? But, neither of us can become addicted to the practice or let our guard down. I can give you this once maybe twice. The ingredients are rather rare, and I am sure he has the purchases of them watched.”

”Once now and then once when we figure out a way to escape," she muttered. ”Why is it that on your birthday, you are giving me a present? And you call yourself selfish, Severus Snape.”

He kissed her then, first on her forehead, then her nose which caused her to giggle, and then her lips. Severus whispered, ”I am a selfish man, Hermione Jean Granger. I too want to forget everything else. I want to remind myself of what the world used to be like so I can pull the memory up when all hope seems lost on finding a way to escape. This gift is for both of us. Now that present you spoke of; can I have now?”

Hermione pulled Severus close and kissed him; this was another way Hermione used to forget everything else.

**************************

Hermione stared at her reflection in the mirror; the face that stared back was not her own. The nose was longer and narrower, the skin a paler shade, eyes a clear, bright blue instead of warm brown, her hair was wavy and softer than it had ever been. The colour a dark brown nearly black. She was about the same size as her regular self; maybe a little bit taller but not enough to make too much of a difference. 

No one would ever look at this woman and think ‘Hermione Granger’, but that was the whole point of such a practice, wasn't it? It felt weird to wear the face of another she would never meet, but it could not be helped.

One last tug of her hairbrush through her hair and she was done with trying to avoid Severus. Hermione twisted the brass knob in a hand that still didn't feel like her own, she stepped out into the central part of the house. Severus stood there dressed in Muggle clothing, gripping the mantle tightly, his hands like claws. 

”We should take Muggle transportation," he remarked. ”After sidelong into town that is. Just to be safe, Hermione.”

”That's fine, and I figured as such.”

He reached his hand out for hers and then pulled Hermione into him. She wrapped her arms around him. The feeling was as if being pressed through a tube, being ripped apart, and stuck into a blender. Once they landed in the alley, Hermione almost lost her breakfast into the cracked bricks. Severus held back her hair and said nothing. 

Hermione pulled herself together and wiped her face on the sleeve of her jacket. ”What do you want to do first?” 

”Whatever you want to, though I may have a few ideas," Severus said, ”We have one day, which should feel like a lifetime to both of us.”

”The potion doesn't last a day, so how do we have that much time?” Hermione asked him. ”Surely, you don't have a shrunken woman in your pocket?”

”I may have modified the potion slightly over the years.” 

”You just modified a hard to make potion, like it was nothing?" she asked, quite astounded at the fact. 

”Yes," Severus asserted. ”Surely you remember that book, my potion’s textbook that Potter used? Now come on there are many things as we can do in the hours we have, but standing around talking about how we have so much time is not what I want to do.”

Together they walked out into the bustling Muggle street, with all the sounds, smells and sights of London. For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt alive once more. She smiled up at Severus, who for once smiled back at her. It would have looked a little strange on his own face, it looked as if the muscles for the movements were rarely used. There was a great wide world out there, and one day she hoped they would get to experience it - together. 

**********************

Hermione heard music as she and Severus walked through Hyde Park. The female voice let out, _ ”Looking back, how did I get here? Chasing circles.” _

”Can we go listen to them?” she asked him, hopeful. Did Severus even like music? Hermione thought to herself. “If you don't mind, that is.”

”Like I said before, Hermione, this is your day and your choice.” Severus murmured, ”Beyond that, from the sound of it, she has an intriguing sounding voice.”

The woman did have a soft and haunting voice. They walked through the brown dead grass. The crowd surrounding the band wasn't large, which Hermione was grateful for, mostly young couples; Muggles without a care in the world. Life it seemed, had moved on after the war was over. 

So, why had Voldemort done all the killing, torturing and ruining to the Muggle world to bring the wizarding world to their knees? Was it to scare blood traitors and Muggleborns? Because as Hermione could now tell the Muggle world had moved on; unaware of the war that was raged by the magical world. A small part of her was happy about such a fact, but another part was angry. Things shouldn't be so ordinary after all that has happened. 

”Sickle for your thoughts?” Severus said, ”I know it might be strange to be out in this world - their world, but it is the safest.”

”Severus, I don't know about you, but this is my world, my parents used to take me to this park growing up. I just need to set aside my memories and live in the moment.” 

”I shouldn't have said that, Hermione, I didn't mean it that way.” He muttered. ”Sometimes I think they have it easier than we do.”

“They do, Severus, and they also don’t. Monsters still find a way to hurt people no matter what weapons they have access to,” Hermione said as she stared at the other couples who had started to dance. “The Muggle world feels like going to Disney, but being that it also feels fake; like just a little bit of pressure and the paint would chip. I am sorry, Severus, for being such a Debbie Downer.”

Severus rested his hand on Hermione’s cheek and kissed her forehead, ”Hermione, do not apologise for being honest. Do not apologise for your pain. Do not apologise for not being able to jump straight into something as if all that has happened was just a dream. I wouldn't care for you as I do if you were one of those people - a foolish, giddy girl who is always looking on the bright side.”

The song switched again, Severus slightly smiled at this one, it seemed more comfortable on his face now. 

”Dance with me, Severus," she said to him. ”Let’s enjoy Disney, at least for a few moments.”

For once, the former Potion Master seemed nervous. Severus chewed on his lip, staring at the lake beyond the band. 

”Severus, I have two left feet myself, so honestly we can make fools of ourselves together,” Hermione said softly and reached for his arm. ”Please for me?”

”Merlin, I don't ever claim this was my idea, and that I did not warn you," he mumbled as he took her into his arms and kissed her wild curls. ”I care for you, Hermione, I care for you a great deal.”

”I love you too, Severus," Hermione said and then rested her head on his chest. He towered over, making her feel safe. She thought, maybe just maybe, Disney could be a little real at least for a few moments.

*****************************

Hermione saw it then, out of the corner of her eye, she asked him ”Severus, can we?”

”Can we what?” He responded. ”Though I do have a guess. You know out of all the places in London you could go, Hermione, you want to go to a bookstore. Not that I don't understand your desire, but most people wouldn't.”

”How many times do I have to tell you, Severus, I am not like other people?” Hermione laughed. ”Now let's go. I would bet anything you also want to look around it, anyway.” 

She took his hand and together they walked into the warm bookstore. This, Hermione thought, was not Disney, this was reality and heaven tied up in a bow.

The books. It didn't matter that they were Muggle, they were still books, and more information that she would be able to begin to understand. Hermione ran her fingers over the paperback spines lovingly. For all of her life, books had been her escape, and from the way Severus scanned the titles himself, he felt the same. Hermione knew she should not waste her time, the little time she had, but he was interesting to watch. 

”You don't like any of them, Hermione?” Severus asked her. ”We can go look down another aisle if you would prefer, or even go find another bookstore.”

”I like all of them, actually, but I surely can't have all of them,” She said. ”But surely you know the feeling, don't you?”

“Of course, you undoubtedly remember my quarters at Hogwarts. But here is an odd suggestion. Pick only the books you would be interested in rereading if you knew what was going to happen in them.” 

Hermione grabbed for three books she had been eyeing and then grabbed another four off a nearby table. ”Is this too much?”

”No that's a perfect amount.” Severus picking a couple of things for himself, ”though something tells me you may like these few as well.”

”Severus... That's far too many.” 

”The one good thing about books, Hermione, which you should already know is - you can reread them, and you can share them with others,” he whispered the last part into her ear. ”And you can also read them to someone, naked in bed but that’s just a suggestion.” 

Hermione could have sworn hidden in Severus’ loose black hair, his pale ears were bright red, but that may just have been the sunset through the windows. 

“We only have an hour or two left.” She said to him rather mournfully; even fairy tales had an ending. This wasn't one, it should just be a day, a typical day like any other, but they did not live in a world where such normal days were options for them. 

”Let’s go make our purchases then, and enjoy the time we have left instead of wasting it worrying about when the clock will strike midnight.”

”Wait, how did you see that movie, Severus?” Hermione asked him, rather shocked that he would have known about a Disney movie, let alone a princess movie like Cinderella. 

”The same way you did Hermione," Severus said as he took her books from her and walked to the register to pay for their books. ”Well, not exactly, it was one of Lily’s favourites, and she forced me to watch it. I much preferred Robin Hood myself, but that is just me. Though looking back, his way about going about things was quite strange.” he mused.

”Children’s movies never make sense do they?” Hermione grumbled, ”They have to be able to tell a good story but also wrap it up in a neat little package for children.” 

”I am guessing you weren't one for fairy tales and princesses?” asked Severus as they stepped out of the small book shop. ”Not one for happily ever afters?”

”Happily ever afters are great, it's the woman needing to be rescued by the man that bugged me,” Hermione said she turned to him. ”I far much-preferred Beauty and the Beast.”

”Should I be worried, Hermione?” Severus teased her or at least tried to. ”That you have a thing for villains of their stories, first a beast and now a Death Eater, what would Ginny Weasley say?”

”Not a thing for beasts, Severus," She huffed, ”Possibly misunderstood creatures but then again it's also merely a fairy tale. Should I be worried that if we are separated, you will need to use a shoe to find me?”

That got Severus to laugh, truly laugh. It was this strange half choking strangled noise, but it was a laugh all the same. ”Only if you will be my Maid Marion. I would much prefer her to Cinderella, though I may have heard Belle too had a thing for books? She would do as well. Come on now let's go find us something for dinner, if you would like that is?”

”I would love to.”

To those around them, they must look like the oddest of people; they were simply two bookworms who believed for the longest of times no one would ever want them. But, the truth was there was someone out there for everyone even if they might not realise it at first. 

****************************

Hermione nibbled on the sugar cookie she had gotten to go. Soon the clock would strike midnight, her disguise would turn back into a pumpkin, and all would be back to the way it was. Part of her wondered what it would be like if they were just Muggles. 

Severus likely would have been a doctor of some sort, using his love of understanding every single little detail of things he enjoyed. As for her, who knew. Long ago before her Hogwarts letter came, all she had known was she wanted to read as many books as possible, one day go to Oxford and  _ not  _ become a dentist. It wasn't that she didn't think the job was necessary or important, it was merely Hermione didn't want a part of it herself.

Hermione took Severus’s hand in her own. His fingers were warm; it sent little butterflies in her stomach. ”I love you, Severus.” 

”And I, you. One day soon, I will find a way for us to live a life a little more like this.”

”Well, Snape, you finally decided being celibate isn't all that fun?” said the male voice, ”Won’t you introduce me to your pretty little wife? We were friends once, weren't we? Finally got over the Mudblood whore?”

”Rabastan, don't you have far more important things to worry about?” Severus snapped, ”Like reassuring your brother that his wife is not far more interested in following around the Dark Lord than him?”

”You’re a bastard Snape, you know that?” Lestrange laughed. ”She’s a pretty little thing though, aren't you girly? Far too pretty to be with greasy Severus Snape.” 

Hermione’s stomach felt as if it was in her throat. She was dead, dead where she stood - Hermione was just waiting for the monster to strike her down. Would he hurt Severus too? Would the Death Eater kill him for daring to be near a Muggleborn, one who also happened to be a friend of Harry Potter?

”Helen, this is a man I used to work with," Severus muttered, ”But we have to be going, don't we?”

”Yes,” Hermione croaked. ”Yes we do, my mum wants to have dinner with us, remember?”

”Let’s go then," he muttered. ”Your mum surely wouldn't want us to be late now, would she?” 

Hermione felt it then, the potion had ceased working. One moment she looked like someone else, the dark-haired pale skin woman, and the next she once again looked like herself, Hermione Granger.

”Well, isn't that an exciting development?” The gaunt-faced Death Eater laughed, ”The dirty blood runs deep Snape, or it is you had to replace one Mudblood whore for another? Now come, Snape’s little pet Mudblood, I am sure the Dark Lord will enjoy introducing himself to the girl Snape has been slumming it with.”

Severus shouted at Hermione to run, but her feet felt as if they were made of lead, tying her to where she stood. ” _ Sectumsempra _ ," he cried as he turned to face Lestrange. Blood pooled in the man’s white shirt as he fell back onto the cold, red bricks. His auburn hair stuck to his death-white, pale face. 

Hermione didn't hear the screams coming from her own throat for a second. Severus was methodical about what he did. The dying man was levitated behind a dumpster. He muttered to himself more than her, ”Muggles will find him and think it was stab wounds.” He snatched Lestrange’s wand and shoved it into his coat pocket. 

”He would have happily killed both of us or taken us to the Dark Lord, Hermione," Severus muttered once she had quieted her own screams. ”I can assure you that would have been far worse than what happened to him. He has done so many horrible things; no one was more deserving of death.”

”I know," she choked out. ”Let’s just go home.” 

Severus’s fingers brushed against her arm, she pulled away from him without thinking about it. It wasn’t fear of him, or at least she didn’t think so, but all that had happened made her feel like she could jump out of her own skin.

”Hermione, I have to touch you to sidelong Apparate, I am sorry.”

”It's okay, Severus," Hermione whispered. Tears she did not even know why exactly they were falling hit her cheeks. The man had killed so many, tortured Neville’s parents.He would have killed her and Severus or worse for sport. ”I understand, but he...”

”Was still a person and you saw them die. Feeling this way means you still have a soul.”

”You have one as well, Severus," Hermione whispered as she pulled him close. ”You wouldn't have done it if you didn’t have to. I know that. You were just protecting us.”

Severus Apparated them home with her in his arms. His black eyes hardened and troubled with what he had done. For a half of a second before they left that alley, Hermione could swear in the distance she could see a flash of pale, nearly white hair. But, it could have just been her imagination.

They landed outside of their small cottage, and he pulled away from her, ”I need a drink,” Severus muttered. 

”I think I might want one, too.”

”I think my grandfather hid at least a few bottles of wine here; we can have it if you want,” he said to her, ”And if you want, I will sleep on the couch tonight.”

”No, Severus, I don't think I could sleep tonight without you there. Even though I don't think either of us are going to sleep tonight.”

Today was one of the best days Hermione had in years in some ways , but it was also the worst. She was grateful the potion wasn't an option regularly, and part of her regretted now taking it, all things considered. 

  
Severus poured them both glasses wine and together they got lost in the bottle. They needed it though, to quiet their own thoughts, the pain of what happened, and what  _ could  _ have transpired.


	4. Chapter 4

”Some days it takes a lot of work just to be okay.”

Hermione hadn't slept that night; she hadn't really slept for damn near a week. At four or five am in the morning, she would pass out due to sheer exhaustion. Then up before ten am. Most nights, Severus did sleep; at least he did after he added the new wards. 

He generally, from what she suspected, was up at the crack of dawn. Severus looked as bad Hermione felt. The dark circles around his eyes – the gauntness to his pale face. Severus appeared to be someone who had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and the burden of it was causing him to crumble under the pressure.

Hermione dressed, pulling on her jeans from yesterday and pulled on her jumper that hung on the chair next to the bed. She tied her curls back, not bothering to do anything else. What was the point of such things? Hermione knew she was downright dripping in sorrow. Why did she care so much about a man who would have happily killed her? Why did she care so much about a man who clearly wanted to do far worse things than just kill her? Because no matter what, Rabastan Lestrange was a person, a monster mind you, if there ever was one, but still a person all the same. 

The sight that greeted her in the main part of the house was quite strange. Severus sat at the kitchen table with a lit cigarette dangling between his lips.

”Must you do that?” Hermione asked. ”And if you have to, could you do it outside?” 

”No, I cannot,” Severus muttered. ”It’s raining, and there isn't much else to do anyway.”

Hermione sat down quietly in the chair across from him. Before he could even tell what she was doing, Hermione snatched the pack of cigarettes from him and the lighter. Taking one out, she put it to her lips and lit it. Her first hit off of it caused her to cough, and her second gave her a head rush, but her third made Hermione realise why someone might enjoy them – it calmed her stomach twisting nerves. It allowed her to escape the feeling of overwhelming doom, at least for a second or two. 

They sat there like two strange silent creatures – at least now Hermione now knew why Severus’ fingers were stained. ”How long have you smoked?”

”That's a rather random question, Hermione.” 

”I have never seen you smoke before, so I am honestly curious," she said to him. ”You're not the type of wizard I would have expected to take up Muggle vices.”

”And you  _ are  _ the type of witch to wonder about something that doesn't concern you," he shot back. ”I started when I was twelve, maybe a little younger. Both my parents smoked, and I was curious about why my father would let us starve so he could have money for whisky and cigarettes. And cigarettes happen to be easier to steal without getting caught.”

”How did I never—”

”Know? Because for years you were my student and you weren't supposed to. Though the fact that students don't tend to see their professors as real people with lives outside of teaching likely helped,” Severus said as he put out his cigarette and lit another. ”I also tend to smoke outside. But desperate times call for drastic measures. I have no interest in getting soaked to the bone. And your thoughts may as well have been shouting at me this morning.”

”What is it that we are even doing, Severus?” Hermione asked him, ”I sometimes feel like I know you better than anyone I have in my life, and others like I know next to nothing about you.”

”Hermione, you know more than most about me.” he snapped clearly angry about her line of questioning. ”You know I taught potions for most of my life, you know my greatest mistake. You know about this place, which the only others who do are dead. And you know my father abused my mother, because why else would my absurd grandfather leave such a place to his disowned daughter and her half-blood bastard? 

“I ask you not to go digging into things that do not truly concern you. I’m sorry,” he paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. ”If you want to end this – whatever this is – we can. I understand if how you view me has changed because of what happened in London. Just tell me if that is the case, do not make me guess, do not leave me wondering.” Severus ashed out his cigarette, stood and shoved his chair in. Hermione ashed out her own, not interested in ever having another.

”Severus...”

”I’m going to take a shower. Then maybe I’ll work on a potion, make an early lunch, or I might go stand out in the rain, Merlin only knows.”

”Severus Snape!” Hermione snapped, standing from her chair and approaching him. ”You are the biggest bloody fool I have ever met. But, for whatever reason I love you. What you did to save us? It didn't change my opinion on you. I fought in a bloody war! I watched friends die, and I too, have killed someone! Avery. I didn't have another choice; he was going to kill me if I didn't kill him. So don't you dare give that stupid pity party. Talk to me. Talk to me as your friend. Talk to me as your lover. Talk to me as your girlfriend. Talk to me as whatever it is you think we are.”

Severus pulled her to him and kissed her, his lips pressed harshly against her own. Picking her up, he turned and sat her on the counter. Hermione wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him into the cradle of her thighs.His lips tasted like smoke, coffee and tobacco. It made her feel alive once again instead of merely surviving, like there was something out there beyond the four walls of this cottage. Maybe one day they would get to be part of it again. 

He ripped the hair tie out of her hair, allowing her tangled curls to fall around her in disarray. 

They pulled away from each other, catching their breath with their foreheads resting against one another. ”We need to stop doing this,” Severus muttered. ”We should, or it's only going to keep upsetting us.”

”What if I don't want to stop this?” Hermione reached for him and tightened her legs around his hips, trapping him against her. His cock pressing into her screamed one thing, and his voice spoke another.

”We should stop this.” 

”No we shouldn't, Severus.”

”We should stop the screaming and then trying to fuck with our clothes still on, Hermione," he snapped. ”I would prefer to skip straight to the sex, but that's just me.”

He wanted this, Hermione thought. Severus Snape wanted her, and she wanted him. What was holding her back from taking it further? What would the world think? Her long-dead friends? The family that was gone? Hermione missed them; she missed them all with every single fibre of herself. But, she could not bring them back. There was no time turner to change the past; they only allowed what had happened to happen— nothing more and nothing less.

They, Severus Snape and Hermione Granger, had to continue on. As much as it would shock and possibly horrify her younger self, Hermione was glad it was him. And she knew the way to show it to Severus. It had been something Hermione had been contemplating for hours each day. Something that she had ground into her was this wonderful gift that she should only share with the most special person, possibly even only her future husband.

But there was no telling when something like a wedding would ever be able to happen. And in this instant, in this moment of space and time, Hermione couldn't imagine anyone else. She loved Severus, she was in love with him, and didn't that mean far more than marriage vows? 

Didn't his actions speak far more loyalty than those of, ‘ _ to have and hold for all the days of my life’ _ ? They had promises to each other far greater than any marriage vows they might one day make to each other or someone else. Heat pooled in Hermione’s belly as she spoke the words she never thought she would say, back when everything was as it should be, ”Severus, I want you to fuck me. Truly fuck me.”

He ripped her clothes off bit by bit, until not a stitch was left on Hermione, leaving a pile next to the stove. Then, as if Hermione weighed nothing at all, he carried her to their shared bedroom. 

Hermione landed on the bed where he lightly tossed her. Staring up at him, she watched as he stripped off his own jumper and then went to his belt. ”No, Sev," she said. ”Let me.”

”Are you sure?” He whispered.

”Yes, I am.” 

Hermione climbed off the bed and kneeled on the floor in front of Severus. Reaching up, she went to work on his belt, then his button and zipper. She wanted to do this; it wasn't that hard to do. Hermione thought back to what Ginny and Lavender had said all those years ago, reminding herself of what they were talking about and how to do this. Hermione wished that there were books on such things, she assumed there were, but she had never seen them. 

”You don't have to do this, Hermione," his hand tangled into her curls. ”You know that, right? I want you to, but there are other things we can do if you would prefer that.”

”I want to do this," she said and yanked down his pants and trousers. 

Severus hissed and bit down on his own hand, trying to muffle his moans. His cock was almost as pale as the rest of him, except the head, red and swollen with blood. Hermione wrapped her hand around the base and took the rest into her mouth. It wasn't precisely a pleasant taste, But, the sight of Severus, Mr Prim and Proper, black eyes brimming with lust, desire, and just barely able to keep control of himself was a heady sight. Hermione attempted to figure out a way to bob up and down on his cock, but she mostly failed, or so she thought. 

”How in the world did I get so lucky, how did I end up with a witch like you?” Severus asked through gritted teeth, before finally giving in and letting out a moan. ”Come on you, sweet witch, you asked me to fuck you and if I finish in your mouth, that will not happen.” Before the sentences were out of his mouth, he pulled himself away from her. 

Severus reached for Hermione, helping her stand. They stood there, staring at each other. Hermione wondered what he saw when he looked at her. Did he only see a skinny, bushy-haired girl, with scars over her skin who was plain at best and boyish at worst? The scar that had been carved into her arm,  _ Mudblood _ , a word that she knew haunted his mind for decades. Did Severus see beyond it? Or was he too worried about how she saw him?

”You're far more beautiful than you know, Hermione, far more beautiful.”

”You don't see yourself clearly either," she shot back. 

His pale piano fingers knotted into her curls, and Hermione kissed him. They fell, half laying, half sitting down on the bed. Severus continued kissing her before he pulled away so they could catch their breath. Feather-light touches on her inner thigh sent small electric-like shocks to her core. 

Severus gave her a rather rude smile like he knew exactly he was making her feel, and understood precisely what he was doing to her. 

”Stop teasing me," Hermione snarled. ”Stop being a bloody cock tease, you arse.”

”Says the girl who hasn't worn a bra in days, says the woman who forgot her towel and walked around stark naked for me to see.”

”It’s not like you haven't seen it before, Severus," Hermione groaned, ”And if you wouldn't have stayed stuck in that bloody intelligent, but so utterly foolish, mind of yours, we could have been doing this days ago. But that was your choice. 

“You assumed I wouldn't want you still so you shut me out. Don't shut me out. Please don't ever shut me out as long as you still want this. Because no matter how much you drive me insane, Severus Snape, you are mine, and I am yours. I want you. I want all of you. I want you as my first, and maybe my last. I love you, and I hope you love me too.”

When they kissed, it said all the words he did not speak, all the passion, the desire and all that was them. His long fingers slipped inside of Hermione quickly, teasing her, brushing that place that made her moan and cry out against her will. Severus found it, the spot that felt like nothing else, his long fingers touching places inside her that she had never been able to reach.. He teased it, with long thrusts and then, as if he grew weary of teasing her, his thumb rubbed – no, pressed – against her clit. 

Hermione’s vision darkened as she felt it, the tightening, the dancing sparks under her skin, and then it all gave way as if every single molecule of her existed to merely feel pleasure. 

Severus did not give her time to rest and enjoy her bliss. He kissed and nibbled on her flat belly. He kissed his way up her body teasing her still, the little laughs he added made it clear Severus was enjoying it. 

”You’re an asshole.” 

”And yet you love me.”

”I do," Hermione grumbled through gritted teeth. “Now please, for the love of Merlin, get on with it.”

Severus seemed to grow nervous. Gone was the prickly, snarky man and in his place was somebody who looked like he wanted this but he was slightly scared. Taking his heavy cock his hand, he guided himself to her cunt, rubbing the head up and down her slit. Lining himself up with her opening, Severus pushed in as slowly as possible, as if he was worried that he might hurt her. It seemed to take an eternity and no time at all before Severus was entirely inside her, touching places that no one else had. 

They stayed like this, unmoving for seconds or maybe it was hours, just enjoying the feel of one another. Severus started to move, slowly as if he was testing to see how Hermione felt. She kissed him to encourage him that it was alright – that she was okay. Severus seemed to understand that. Their bodies met, each trying to seek out their own pleasure and each other, touching each other, brushing places that caused both of them to cry out. 

Seconds past, or was it minutes, surely not hours in a haze of skin slapping against skin. Moans, whimpers, cries of pleasure filled the air around them. Closer and closer, reaching a peak, Severus came inside her with a cry of Hermione’s name pouring from his lips. Pulling out, he flopped down on his back next to her. Severus wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer until she lay on top of him. Holding Hermione in his arms, teasing her, filling her once again with his fingers. Thumb on her clit he sent shocks through her.

”Come for me, Hermione, come on my fingers," Severus whispered into her ear, ”That’s my lovely witch; let go.”

Hermione chased after that twisty feeling in her belly, and then, his arms around her, she came. Hermione was losing herself in the feeling of it all, crying out his name loudly. They fell asleep, with light streaming through the window in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait – this is what mattered the most in this instant. 

**************************

Hermione woke up calm and well-rested for what felt like a lifetime. Severus sat there next to her, propped up against the pillows, reading. His fingers turned the pages softly, and a pair of reading glasses rested on his nose. Severus looked peaceful, almost. Or maybe it was domestic. 

”I know you’re awake, Hermione," he said. ”But, if you’re still tired I can turn off the lamp.”

”No, it's okay," Hermione said. ”What are you reading?”

”Something rather silly, but it reminds me of things I spent years trying to forget. Though honestly I should have held onto it tighter. I however was a rather stupid boy growing up,” He confided in Hermione. ”I thought I was going to do something vast or even great. I thought I was going to make a difference. I dreamed of being better than my mother. That I was going to be something, someone my grandfather would consider worthy of inheriting the vast estates my mother had told me about in stories that made it seem so wonderful.”

Hermione curled into Severus’s chest, her foot rubbing along his thigh, ”You never did tell me what you are reading, Sev.”

”Alice In Wonderland. My father would not allow her to read me the Magical children books like Molly read to her children. So instead, my mother read Muggle stories that seemed magical until she knew I was old enough to understand we couldn't talk about magic around my father.”

”You have told me more about your mother in the last few moments than you have in all the years I have known you,” she said softly and kissed his cheek, feeling the slight stubble under her lips. ”I’m so grateful you’re willing to share this with me – that you trust me enough. My mother read Alice In Wonderland to me too. I hope one day I can read it to my child.”

”I trust you, Hermione. I am not good at letting people in. For better but mostly for worse.” Severus kissed her hair, arms wrapping around her, pulling her even closer. ”I trust you, and I hope you trust me.”

”I do.”

Severus pulled away, set aside the paperback on the bedside table, and then got out of bed. Hermione could not help but stare at him as he bent to pull on his trousers. He was pale, long-limbed, more lean than muscular, but there was something that Hermione couldn't put her finger on exactly, that attracted him to her. 

Maybe it was his barbed tongue; maybe it was his intelligent mind, the rather dangerous thing that seemed just to lie under the surface with him, or maybe something that Hermione wouldn't want to admit truly – though it was only part of it – how he was in bed. 

”I don't think I want kids, Hermione. Ever.”

And with those words, Severus Snape, crushed a rather large part of Hermione Jean Granger’s soul under his boot as he walked out of the bedroom. 

  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

“What matters most is how you walk through the fire.” - Charles Bukowski 

Hermione wanted to throw her book at Severus Snape. Couldn't he have just saved that comment for another time? Did he have to say it now of all times? She said nothing – it wasn't worth it. It wasn't as if he would care, it wasn't as if he would understand. At least Severus was honest, even if he was painfully so.

”Want to have lunch?” He stepped back in the room to ask her. ”And if so anything you would like?”

”Whatever you want to make,” Hermione sighed. She laid back on the pillows and stared at the ceiling. Severus thankfully took this as an answer and understood Hermione really wasn't interested in a conversation. 

Then a second later, showing that he, too, was just as uncomfortable as she was, Severus slammed the door shut. The wall slightly shook with the force he put behind it. Even though a door now separated them, Hermione could swear that she felt the anger that radiated off the man in the other room. Merlin, they were a pair, Hermione thought; the tinderbox and the fire.

She stood up on her wobbly, colt-like legs. Hermione didn't bother to dress – it was not like Severus hadn't seen it before. It wasn't like he hadn't just fucked her. What was the point of getting dressed just to strip once more to shower? There was none. Hermione gathered her courage and opened the door. Step by step, with her head held high, she walked past where Severus was standing in the kitchen. She could feel his eyes on her, and it thrilled her. 

”Surely you have clothes to wear?” he snapped at her through gritted teeth. ”And if you do so, wear them.” 

”That wasn't what you were saying earlier," Hermione shot back. ”You were quite happy to see me like this, then.” 

Severus walked over to her, holding a wooden spoon, his hair in his face. His lips were curled into the beginning of a sneer and she knew he was going to say something foul. 

”You’re insufferable. Do you know that? Did you study how to be the greatest of back talkers?” Severus growled. ”I say one bloody thing to you, and you have to go and ruin everything. I am sorry if you decided to get into, whatever the bloody hell this is, with someone without a bloody drop of paternal desire or instinct. But, Granger you should've known that! Merlin, anyone who uses their brain could see that by how much I hated teaching you brats. At least at Hogwarts, I could shut the door to my quarters and lock you out!”

”I didn't ruin anything! You did," Hermione yelled. ”Don't you think I just wanted to escape? Pretend for just a moment? Just a second? Of course not! Because you never do. Honestly, Severus, do not say every single bloody thing that comes to your mind. And lying isn't letting it be. Now I am going to go shower. That’s why I didn't put on clothes, I didn’t see the point of putting them on to simply take them off.”

”I see no point, Hermione, of leading you on. Of letting you believe I am someone like Weasley,” he said. ”I have no interest or desire for a house full of children and a white picket fence.”

”This isn't even a world I want to bring children into, so it's a rather moot point. And for your information, Ron was gay. Unless the wizarding world let him adopt a brood of kids with his partner, he had no interest in that life either. And white picket fences take so long to clean anyway.” 

Hermione hooked her thumbs into the belt loops of his trousers. The wooden spoon hit the floor with a good loud thump. Lunch was forgotten for other things.

***********************

Hermione found Severus dozing quietly on the back porch; sitting quietly in a wooden rocking chair of all things. A book was open in his lap with its spine facing up. It was leather-bound which spoke to its age and likely what it was about. 

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his feet bare. He wore a pair of jeans Hermione didn't even know he owned. Severus seemed to be enjoying the spring that had come rather quickly—or at least this warm day— such an odd thing after the rain, but Hermione would take it.

”Granger, you are as loud as a hippogriff," Severus grumbled. ”You can nearly wake the dead.”

”I didn't even know you owned jeans," Hermione laughed, ignoring his snarky comment. ”And anyway you snore, which I am sure is far louder than I am.” Stifling the urge to stick her tongue at him.

”I was a teenager once, Hogwarts had a standard of dress for staff and students.” He said, ”And your hair is like you stuck it in a tornado.”

”You, of all people, have no right to talk about hair.” 

”True, true," Severus laughed, and then set his book aside and pulled Hermione into his lap. He pushed her hair aside and whispered into her ear. ”I happen to love this wild hair of yours, and the fact that you're as loud as a hippogriff. And I am sorry I upset you earlier; I didn't mean to.”

”You  _ did  _ mean to," Hermione muttered, ”But I thought about it and understand now why you said it. This isn't a world to bring children into, surely not the children of a Muggleborn.” 

”There is nothing wrong with being a Muggleborn; you know that, right?” Severus muttered, ”Not a Goddamn thing.”

”If only the rest of the world agreed with you." She pulled away from him and stood up. The wood under her bare feet was warmed by the setting sun. ”I’m a realist. The world is the way it is, and there is only so much change or fighting someone can do before they either lash out or give in. I don't know which one I ended up deciding on.”

”I think you neither gave in or lashed out myself, but that's just me. I believe you decided on the third option.”

”And what is that?”

”You choose to survive." Severus sighed. ”And that, Hermione Jean Granger, makes you smart and strong. Beyond that, I don't know if anyone has ever informed you there is a great wide world out there– Magical and Muggle– and neither see you, or any other Muggleborn, the way that madman does.”

”Then why does it sometimes feel like there isn't?” Hermione asked him, ”Why does it feel like this country is where the world begins and ends?”

“Because it’s all you’ve ever known.” He muttered, ”I am just as guilty of it, though I try not to be. Hogwarts doesn't have a proper history class, hasn't since long before I was born, let alone you. Even if we had one, not many people are the type to pay attention to a ghost professor. History should be something interesting; you need to see the past as real people who lived, breathed and walked. The Dark Lord is simply one chapter of it. In the future, his chapter will take one day to cover, and the English wizarding world will heal from the wounds he has caused.”

”Why does that not feel like it's true?” 

”Because we are living in something they will write about in history books, those moments carve out lives and stories," Severus confessed to her. ”One day you will tell your children you lived through this and they will see their mother as a survivor just as I saw mine. Eileen, my mother, grew up during a Muggle time, not unlike this. But that monster was of a different kind; he was a Muggle. I am sure as I sit here and breathe, someone will topple this monster as Hitler was once toppled.”

”Does that mean you have changed your mind about children?” Hermione asked him, daring not to hope. He was the king of squashing it after all. ”Or do you somehow believe you will convince me to leave you after I finally have you right where I want you?”

Severus laughed a real laugh, not a bit of mocking in the tone. ”Why do you have such a strong desire to have a pack of greasy-haired brats?”

”You can't really hate children that much, can you?” She questioned. ”Surely, you would feel different about your own children.”

”Why do you have such a strong desire to make Hogwarts deal with greasy, brushy-haired, sullen, insufferable, little know-it-all's?”

”Purebloods, from all that I know about them, see family as the most wonderful thing on earth.”

He pulled out and lit a cigarette, ”In all your research did you ever find Snape in any records in the library? No. It's Muggle, very Muggle. So how they see children matters little to me. Halfblood, Granger. My mother was a pureblood, and my father was just as Muggle as your parents. Maybe even more so with his closed-off mind.” 

”Then why in the bloody hell do you become a Death Eater?” Hermione cried out before she could stop herself.

”The same reason the Dark Lord became the Dark Lord." Severus took a large hit off his cigarette. ”He's a halfblood too, you know.”

Hermione turned around sharply to face him hand on the arms of the rocking chair. ”I think the reason why you don't want kids is you're worried you might end up being like your own father.”

”I am not one of your books, Granger, piss off. Stop trying to figure my feelings out without my permission. You know less than a quarter of my story.”

”Then answer why, Severus?”

”Because I never thought anyone would want them with me!” he snarled. ”Because I gave every bloody piece of myself to this war – my very fucking soul. I was younger than you are now when I became a spy. And as you can see from this conversation, my personality leaves quite a bit to be desired. So in another life, maybe, I would want them. With a woman I loved, in a world that was safe. As much as you push my buttons, with your great desire to push till someone spills out their greatest secrets to you, that woman is you.” 

Severus grabbed her face in both of his large pale hands, kissed her, and pulled away to say, “I love you, you bloody pain in the arse. I want a future with you, so long as you promise never again to treat me like some sort of lab rat to study.”

”I promise. And I also promise that as long as you do the same to try and stop fighting as much as we do.”

”I don't know if I can do that.”

”Why not?” she asked.

”Because I like arguing with you, and what it leads to," he laughed, his fingers tracing the hem of her shirt as if he was trying to change the subject to something a little bit more fun.

”You’re the insufferable one!” Hermione growled. ”Changing the subject without thought. And a rather dirty man. Someone might see.”

”I do nothing without thought. A lot of thought goes into what I want to do to you. I have a lifetime of plans of what to do to a willing witch to make her scream my name. Beyond that, there is no one around for miles, and it's not like anyone would care if we did.” Severus chuckled. ”They would get to see you, and what a sight that is.” 

”Dinner, first.”

“Okay, and after?” he asked.

“Maybe.” Hermione kissed his cheek. “I love you, Sev.”

***********************

Hermione pulled on her leather boots. After a couple of days of walking across the hardwood floor, back and forth like an animal pacing in its too-small cage, she needed to get out of the house. Severus also seemed ready to jump out of his own skin, though if you didn't know any better you wouldn’t be able to tell; he was just reading. Which he was, for the most part, but the way he gripped the book and every few moments glanced out the window, he, too, was ready to jump out of his own skin.

”Want to go on a walk?” she asked him, hopeful that he knew of a place they could safely go. ”We don't have to go far. I just need to see more than these four walls.”

”We shouldn't; it might not be safe," Severus muttered chewing on his pale lips. ”But, losing our minds in sheer boredom is far worse.” He set his book aside, grabbed his own boots and pulled them on. His pale fingers made quick work of tying his shoelaces. Hermione went to get her coat on but found that Severus already had snatched it off the coat rack. 

”I can do things myself, you know?”

”I know you can, but that doesn't mean I don't like helping you,” he said to her, pulling her curls to the side and kissing her neck as he did so. Then helped Hermione into her coat. ”But mostly it gives me a reason to touch you and kiss you. Which I will never get enough of.”

”Let me do the same,” Hermione said as she pulled his own coat. It was far heavier than hers and far larger. Severus towered over her, nearly a foot, at least, taller. He mostly put it on himself, but helping him the best he could allowed Hermione to touch him. Touching him and him cuddling her reminded her someone did care, even if that person had a barbed tongue. 

Hermione reached for him, using his shoulders to pull herself up and rocked onto her toes. Severus’ large hand tangled into her hair, and he kissed her neck. She never would get over the feeling of his mouth on hers. His one hand snaked its way under her shirt, stroking her nipple through her bra. Hermione cried out at the feeling. And she could swear that he was smirking against her neck. 

”You're enjoying this far too much,” she whimpered. ”I still want to go on that walk.”

”So do I, but I want to enjoy this as well," he chuckled. ”Don't start what you don't want to finish, Hermione.”

”You're an arsehole you know that?”

  
  


”Yep, still want to go on that walk?” Severus pulled away and said, ”Let’s go, Hermione.”

*********************

It turned out the estate was far larger than Hermione had believed at first, even though the house was rather small. The hedges, the trees, and the building themselves could make her feel the history of this place. 

”How long has your family owned this place?” she asked him. 

”Since they came to the country from Ireland,” Severus said. ”So since about the beginning of the 18th century give or take?”

”You say that as if it's such a minor thing," she responded. ”As if it's next to nothing.”

”The Malfoys have been here far longer. The Princes were a young family in comparison to them,” he remarked. ”And far poorer.”

”Were? Don't they still exist?” she asked as they walked further into the wooded area at the back of the property. Hermione bent down, plucking a daisy, and tucked it behind her ear. ”Surely you count yourself as a Prince?”

”My mother was blasted off the family tree because of her choice to marry a Muggle. Not unlike Andromeda Tonks was,” he said to her, sticking another daisy in her hair. ”I’m in a sense, fruit off the poisoned tree. The only reason I inherited this was because, Augustus, my grandfather was desperate to save my mother– Muggle lover or not. And before that, it had sat abandoned for decades. This was this forgotten home. But, I think it's one of the most beautiful. At least now with you here.”

Severus’ sad smile didn't reach his eyes though. 

”I think the Prince family isn't yet gone," Hermione said, reaching for him, pulling him close. ”Not with its bravest member here. Not many people would risk all that you have; for people you didn't even like at first.”

”I am not a brave man, but I am a rather selfish man.” He tilted her chin up and kissed her. Severus whispered, “I used to imagine having a life with someone. I had given up on such a foolish notion, but I realise maybe I had the right idea then. I just needed to find the right person, even if the timing didn't at first seem right.”

Hermione thought,  _ was it Lily who you imagined having a life with? Or was it someone else another dark secret you keep close to your chest. _

It didn't matter, either way, that was the past. Hermione was the one he was with now– the one who had started to get him to open up. Breaking apart slowly but surely the shell Severus had used as a personal shield around his mind and his heart. 

The sun was setting, light streaming through the trees, shining brightly it's orange, golds and pinks. Hermione decided in that instant that she loved this odd little estate. It was easy to imagine making her life here and raising children with the stubborn man next to her. The little cottage could be built on with magic: a garden in the back for potion ingredients, and a greenhouse for what needed it. Maybe a cat and or a dog. It would be a quiet, simple life. The idea of it ensnared her thoughts and dreams. But, reality came crashing down upon her like a hammer. 

As long as Voldemort lived, and they were in this country, they didn't have the opportunity to have those things here, or anywhere else. Hermione began to cry at those thoughts. 

”What’s wrong?”

Hermione didn't even know what to say or how to say it. 

”Did I do something wrong? Do you want to go back home?”

”I don't know; I just don't know,” she muttered. ”I need to leave this place. We can't have a life here, Severus. Not a real one.”

They held each other tightly among the trees, clinging to each other like that was the only thing that mattered. ”I will find a way, somehow, someway, so we can leave this place. Together. I promise.”

She believed him, for no other reason than because of the fact he was Severus, and he didn't make promises lightly. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

“All we have is now.” 

It had been two months since they started sleeping together. Hermione knew she was a fool, the biggest bloody idiot this side of the Atlantic Ocean. Hermione knew how sex, pregnancy and childbirth worked. Her mother when she was sixteen gave her ”the talk” though it was likely far more medical than most sixteen-year-olds would ever get. Her mother had been downright clinical about it. Going on about the options of birth control if Hermione wanted to sleep with someone she was seeing. 

The answer at the time had been ”no!” and ”why would you even think that?” Hermione had far more important things to worry about at sixteen, like staying alive and Voldemort. There were bigger things to worry about in her fourth year on then what boy she liked and might want to have sex with. But, the truth was she never got really into those things, at least not then. Hermione was now paying the price for not taking her mother’s words to heart. 

But, the truth was the lecture her mother had given her had nothing to do with magic. It wasn't as if she could have walked into a random chemist and asked for birth control. Beyond that, Hermione thought, were there even magical methods? Having never gone looking for it, she actually couldn't answer it. 

Hermione Jean Granger was late. Every single part of her mind was screaming the answer. Sitting there on the cold tile floor counting the days back again for what felt like the hundredth time, but likely was only the tenth. How could she of been so stupid? How could she have been so foolish? How could she not think of the consequences of her actions? Hermione wasn't the only one to blame, though. It took two to have sex; it took two to create a fetus. 

This surely wasn't the time or place to have a child; Hermione could already hear what Severus was going to tell her. Get rid of it, surely he knew of a potion for just that. 

No, just no! Hermione would not do that. Not after all that had happened, all that had been. All that they had lost and all that those who they didn't know what happened to them. Hermione bit her fingernails chewing nervously on them. Trying to calm her rambling jumpy thoughts, that felt like a bouncing ball through her head.

Hermione backed against the wall and sighed. It was time to face the music. Time to tell Severus what she thought had happened and their silly arguments about children weeks ago weren't just simple conversations anymore. As if he could hear her thoughts, Merlin only knew he might be able to, Severus knocked on the bathroom door lightly as if he was nervous, which was rather unlike himself.

”Hermione? Is everything okay?” He asked. ”Whatever it is, we can figure it out; you just have to tell me what's wrong.” His hand was likely tangled in his long black hair tugging at it. 

”Give me another minute or two,” Hermione said her voice cracking. She had never been good at lying, never been good at hiding her feelings as much as she desired to in this moment. ”I will be fine.” Was it worse to lie to him or herself?

Hermione grabbed the counter, pulling herself up. Staring at her face in the mirror, she didn't see anything different. Same brown eyes that the children in her primary school years called brown like mud. Severus swore up and down they were the colour of chocolate. Her hair that never could seem to be tamed, sticking up in a hundred different directions. Skin paled from earlier when she couldn't keep down her breakfast. Dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep, and eyes red from crying. 

Trying desperately to remove the horrid taste from her mouth, Hermione brushed her teeth and splashed icy cold water on her face for good measure. There wasn't much else she could do to avoid facing Severus. Hermione was a Gryffindor, where was that courage and fire her house was known for? Right it was buried along with her friends. The brave rarely lived long when all hope seemed lost. The brave did something to take others out with them if they too must fall. 

Hermione Granger had always had a spark of intelligence along with that bravery. Gone was the girl who set fire to her professor’s robes. Lost was the person who was just crazy enough to brew poly juice potion in a girl’s bathroom. The person who had once led Umbridge into the woods trying desperately to protect her friend was crushed under the same mallet that had taken those friends. You told stories about the brave around a campfire, while the smart lived to see tomorrow.

But, the truth was, as much as it pained Hermione to admit it she was neither brave nor smart in this instant. Would Severus think she was trapping him? Trying to force him to do something, to become something he had no desire to? Hermione, however, was ten thousand steps ahead of herself in this instant. How could she even be sure she was pregnant? It could be something else; maybe it was something far worse or something trivial. 

“Stop lying to yourself,” Hermione thought, “you know that you are and pretend isn’t true will not change it.” 

Hermione opened the door and stepped out to face the music, to share what she thought to be the truth. Hoping to Merlin, God, and anyone else who was listening maybe Severus Snape would understand why she couldn't just do away with it. Or maybe Hermione was once again simply getting ahead of herself. Hermione had a bad habit of doing that no matter how much she would deny it to anyone, even herself. 

Severus was sitting in the chair he tended to sit in. Black hair falling into his face, as he leaned over the book he was reading. “I really need to introduce him to what a hair tie is,” Hermione thought, “at least with how long it's getting.” Desperately mentally trying to avoid what she needed to say to him. Just spit it out, she thought, it's something that can happen when a man and woman choose to have sex. Surely he as potion’s master and man in his forties knows that!

”Severus-I-think-I-might-be pregnant!” Hermione cried out, louder than she thought it would be. Her hand flew over her mouth and then she bit down on her palm. “I don’t know the spell to test for it.”

Instead of yelling at her, instead of telling her how stupid she was, Severus stood up, set his book aside on the end and table and walked over to her. ”I know it,” he whispered. “Let’s not put the cart before the horse, okay? Stress could be the cause, or something else. And if you are, Hermione? We will figure this out.” His black eyes filled with understanding, though the small smile he was giving her did not reach them. Severus too seemed nervous and worried no matter what he said to her.

Severus clutched his ebony wand in his pale fingers. He sighed loudly as if he was trying to get rid of the tension from his body. A simple wand movement, words spoken so softly Hermione couldn't hear it over the pounding of her own heart in her ears. 

”You were right,” Severus muttered biting harshly down on his thin lip as if he was trying to tear it apart. ”Bloody hell, what are we going to do?” 

”I don't know,” she said. “I know I am not going to get rid of it if that’s what you are thinking.”

”You're a Gryffindor. I wouldn't expect anything less for you. If you wanted to do that, to have me make the potion to get rid of it, to abort it? I would, but I would be just as uncomfortable as you are with the idea.” He softly said, “But I do wonder how this happened? I just assumed you were taking something. I know there isn’t much to deal with this type of problem, but I figured with a female head of house she would have taught you your options. I, unfortunately, had sometimes to explain the options to my own Slytherin students. Purebloods and their need to shove their heads in the sand about what their children are up to.”

“She didn’t actually, ever tell me about my options. It’s not something I ever considered looking for, I had far bigger concerns in school. Call it foolish or stupid I didn’t think about when we started having sex. I should have talked about it with you. Instead, it seemed like something that happened to people not in our situation.” Hermione tugged at curls twisting her fingers into them, making a bigger mess of them, “my mother had mentioned Muggle options, but it’s not like I could go to the chemist or better yet a Muggle doctor, could I? Or even a healer for that matter.”

“No, you couldn’t. We are both at fault when it comes to this, aren't we?”

”We are.”

”What in Merlin’s name are we going to do?” Hermione asked him, ”This isn't a world or life to bring a child into. I can't abort it, but I wish I had a time-turner and could stop us.”

”You of all people know it doesn't work that way,” Severus said. “What is done is done, and we cannot undo it. No matter how much we wish, we could. Magic cannot solve every problem it comes up again no matter how much we desire that to be the case. I have an idea of a way to leave England behind. I just need to make sure my hunch on somethings are correct.”

Hermione’s hair felt like it was standing on end. Someone was here. A few of the wards were her own, some were Severus’s and the rest were on the house before they had taken up residence. 

”Who knows about this place?” She snapped, ”I thought you said no one, but you must have told someone!”

”No one else knows!” He snarled, ”I have never lied to you, Hermione. I happen to be just as confused as you are! Now hide, and I will deal with it.”

”What if it's a member of the Order?”

”Doubtful,” Severus snapped. “Now for once in your life, do what you're told and hide!”

The unspoken words settled over Hermione like a wool blanket, most if not all, the Order was dead or in hiding. They would have no interest in finding a random home that belonged to Severus' long-dead grandfather, but the Death Eater’s on the other hand. With one of their own dead... They had a reason to go looking and the freedom that the Order lacked to do so. 

”Fine! I will go hide, but you will tell who it was and what they said.” The unspoken words were unless you have to do away with them or they do away with you and search the rest of the house.

”It’s not the Dark Lord if that's what you're worried about. It doesn't feel like his magic. Now go hide.”

Hermione did what she was told begrudgingly. Being a sitting duck was not something she enjoyed being. They were stronger together han they were apart. No matter what Severus thought. Hermione stumbled down the stairs to a place she tended to avoid at all cost. There in the basement of places she was, surrounded by cans of things. Mystery meat, Hermione thought, thinking about her lunches from primary school. 

Lumos, she whispered. Her wand is lighting her way. Hermione decided then what was the point of staring at the wall when there were things to look at. Speaking of which it looked like there might be a painting in the far corner. Stepping closer to it with her wand light, she saw him. He looked quite a bit like Severus with his long black hair, his roman nose, downright ghostly pale skin, but what gave this man away as a Prince was his black, not brown eyes as well as the scowl that marred his painted face at the sight of her.

”Mother like son I guess, Mudblood. At least Severus didn't lay with a Muggle, like  _ my _ Eileen.” The portrait snarled at her, ”Surely, it's not like he could taint the family more than she had.”

”What does it matter to you?” Hermione growled. ”Severus is a powerful wizard, being halfblood only added to your family! I know a little about you, Augusta Prince, from just looking around this home. You went mad in your old age. Like all Purebloods seem to do.”

If he was going to judge her without ever speaking to her before, why shouldn't she do the same?

”The Mudblood has a mouth on her. Does my grandson make good use of it?” He snapped, ”In my time we used to use your kind for their proper purpose.”

”I wonder if there is paint thinner down here, surely that would do you some good, you dead bigot,” she shot back. “Ever wonder that maybe you're the reason Eileen decided to marry a Muggle? That you made her think it was her only way away from you? For all you know you're the reason she hated the wizarding world so much she left it.”

”You ignorant little swine. Think you know so much about our family, don't you?” Augustus cried, ”I happily would have accepted my daughter back with open arms, and her little halfblood bastard too!”

”And maybe how you're treating me, how you speak of Severus is exactly why your daughter never took you up on your offer? That you wanted to hide her away like some ruined maiden from a tale of old? I don't know Eileen, never had the pleasure or displeasure of meeting her, but you know what? I wouldn't take your backhanded offer either. You never wanted to help either of them. Severus wouldn't have ended up doing what he did if you would have helped them. His choices were what led him down his path, but you lit the fuse on the fire that caused him to make them.”

”Why are you down here, Mudblood, hiding from someone maybe?” He cackled like a villain in a fairytale. ”Does my grandson not want his friends to know about his dirty little secret? He used to love another little Mudblood, you know. My daughter sent me a letter about her—Evans something or other. My Eileen was proud when he took the mark, just as I was. My daughter, my child shared my beliefs you know, in the end she saw Tobias for the ape he was. My sweet little girl saw the error of her ways. Eileen saw the worst that you Muggles and Mudbloods can be. That was why she was proud of my grandson, that’s why she supported his choice. She took pride in the idea of her son being a loyal Death Eater and getting rid of creatures like yourself from our world. Eileen learned the errors of her ways, and her pride, something you know nothing about with your dirty blood. Severus could of been someone if not for that stupid girl and now you.”

Hermione went to snap at him once again, but then the man in the portrait began to shout, ”Mudbloods! Dirty Mudblood in my home!”

If a Death Eater was here, either she and Severus were as good as dead, or they were. Hermione wanted to plead with Severus’s grandfather, beg the painting to shut it, but it felt as if she had swallowed a rock. The sound of her own heart pounding in her ears sounded like a hammer repeatedly slamming into a brick wall. It drowned out the sounds of the portrait’s screams. 

Hermione saw him then, not Severus, his long white-blond hair longer than when she had seen him last. Malfoy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, and it was crushing him. 

”Granger? Is that you? Bloody hell everyone thinks you're dead!” 

”And that's how it's going to stay, isn't Draco?” Severus snapped behind the blond on the stairs, his wand pressing harshly into the other man’s neck. Hermione could barely make them out in her wand light and Malfoy’s. ”And you, Augustus, shut it! You're down here because I don't want to deal with you. You preposterous old bastard. There are spells to deal with you, and I know to use them! Be silent, or I will vanish you from your frame and be done with you, as I should have done a long time ago.”

”Severus like I said upstairs, I am on your side! I just want to make sure my mother and Ginny can be safe,” Draco cried out, raising both his hands to show he meant neither of them any harm. ”Mother is trying to convince father as well. You were friends with him once. Father has now seen the error of his ways, though he will not admit such a thing. You of all people know what it's like to be around the Dark Lord, he pits us against each other hoping family, friend and foe alike will turn on one another.”

”Then how Malfoy do we know you aren't going to turn on us?” Hermione asked, finally having found her own voice after the painting next to her became silent after the threat of being vanished out of his frame. ”You could easily send us to our death’s to save yourself and our family.”

”Because I owe Severus a life debt!” He snapped, as if it was the most obvious thing ever, ”He did what I could not and in doing so saved my life.”

Severus lowered his wand ever so slightly but still kept it out. The two men slowly made their way down the stairs. Draco didn't put his wand away. 

”Give your wand to her, Draco, now,” Severus muttered. “Come on now you knew this was likely to happen. So just do it. You know we have to be safe over sorry.”

Hermione stepped slowly to the two men; her wand still held out ready to hex Draco if need be. Once she reached them, Hermione grabbed his wand, snatching it out of his hand. Who cared if he was afraid? Every single Muggleborn still alive spent every single day afraid. They were liars and thieves of something they were born with, their magic. She truly hoped he enjoyed the taste of his own medicine. 

Let him be afraid, Hermione thought, every single second of every single day of her life now was filled with fear. Fear for herself, worry about what someone might do to Severus or worse what he might have to do. Now though it was terror that her unborn child might not have a normal life, or maybe even worse a life at all.

”He wants me dead, Granger, the Dark Lord, wants me dead. Because instead of killing Ginny like he wanted me to, I helped her escape to France to be with her brother Bill. I love her, and she loves me. Neither of us planned on it, but it happened. So, he wants my parents and me dead. My viper for an aunt agrees with him. I came here to seek Severus’s help. He's one of the few people still alive I knew I could trust. Hearing you down here, made me realise how right I was.”

”You think he's telling the truth?” She asked Severus, ignoring Draco as if he wasn't even there standing between the two of them. 

”I have been through his mind, but with Bellatrix for an aunt, she may have taught him to hide his thoughts better. Since the last time I saw him.” 

”We could give him Veritaserum,” Hermione remarked as if she was talking about the weather. ”That would clear things up a bit.”

”I may have a vial or two upstairs.”

”It’s settled then.”

”Wait! Here's another way to prove I mean you no harm.” Draco cried out, ”Severus killed Rabastan Lestrange in Muggle London. I saw it with my own eyes! And you were there Granger Polyjuiced as someone else, but then it gave way, and you were yourself again. No one else knows. I haven't told anyone, not even my parents or Ginny. No one else has come looking for you, and the Dark Lord didn't call Severus to him because I didn't say a thing. Do you believe me now? Do you trust me?”

”More than we did before, but you're still going to take the potion,” they said together. Hermione kept the Malfoy heir’s wand to be on the safe side, just in case. Draco was still a Death Eater, and Malfoys were like snakes; they would do what it took to survive. If Draco would turn on his master to save his own neck or the neck of someone he loved, he would turn on them just as easily. 

They might have a way out of England though, in the package of a git. Hermione wondered to herself, what in the bloody hell did Ginny see in him? And why would she fall in love with the enemy? Was it trickery or maybe it was something more? Soon they would learn it. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Yet Hermione felt pure joy at the idea of escaping and being able to leave this all behind. About being like anyone else. 

What would it be like to once again live without fear? Would it be like a dream? Would it ever feel real, would she spend her days looking over her should waiting for someone to hunt them down like dogs? Would Hermione and Severus ever truly be free even if they were free? Would the scars of the war ever vanish like melting snow or would they be like a knife cutting through the skin, leaving gaping wounds that could heal, but forever would leave a mark behind? Only time would tell. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. Chapter 7

“Don’t cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it.”

The three of them walked slowly; each step felt like they were climbing a mountain. Hermione wondered,  _ how is it that we ended up here? How could she go from a simple school girl to someone threatening to shove a potion down the throat of her former classmate?  _ Slytherin or not. Severus was the first to reach the top landing the sound of his heavy leather boot thumping loudly on the oak wood floor. Then Draco reached the top, and she was right behind them. They walked to the sofa, “Sit down, Draco.” Severus snapped, pointing sharply at the other man as he did so.

“Alright, I will, don’t get your wand in a knot,” the blond muttered as he sat down. “You trusted my family once Snape, and I trusted you. Remember that, don’t you?”

“I remember a lot of things Mr. Malfoy, many of which happened long before you were born,” he growled at his former student, “I have likely forgotten more than you will ever know. The most important thing I learned is never to trust a Death Eater, or a Slytherin for that matter.”

Hermione was shocked by that statement, gone was the kinder man she knew, and his replacement was her old angry war-hardened professor. The man who thought that everyone was his enemy. The man who was as dangerous as a snake in the grass or a viper in a pit. 

“And yet you are both  here you both are? ” chuckled Draco, the bravado that he had when they were in school had vanished under the weight of war, and all that he had done. “So should I trust you?’

“I barely even trust myself, Malfoy, so I assure I would not. But, that is your choice, not mine.” Turning sharply to Hermione, he said, “keep an eye on him while I retrieve the potion. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” Hermione croaked, her fear and worry over following in her tone. “Yes, yes, I can. Go get it, and I have his wand and mine anyway.”

“Even with that fact, do not trust him, understand?” Severus asked her, “He is no longer the boy you knew in school. Malfoy is a dangerous person, wand or not. Never forget that.” He pulled her close, kissing her wild curls, and then sharply pulled away from her to go find the potion that would make Draco sing like a canary, or at least they hoped. 

“So you and Snape?” Draco asked, “I would never have expected that, but honestly, I am not as shocked as I should be. You both might as well be stacks of books with legs.”

Hermione ignored him, staring out the window. She did not want to make small talk with Malfoy, but she also desperately wanted to ask him about Ginny and if he knew about the rest of the Order. Biting on her lip, Hermione said nothing, daring not to give herself away. Draco was just as likely to lie to her as tell her the truth no matter what he claimed he had done, no question that it seemed like he was interested in switching sides. Trust was never given to an enemy, at least not in war, even if said war was may as well have been long since lost. 

Though if Hermione understood what he said could be true or it could simply be a falsehood Draco was spilling only to gain their trust--then she would be the one with the upper hand, and might actually be able to learn some information about her friends. Questions that Severus might not ask the man, and if the info Draco shared with her without the potion forcing him to was the same as once he had taken it? They would know that they could trust him at least a tiny bit. Draco Lucius Malfoy was not the type of man you could ever trust fully. The man was a Slytherin, a Death Eater, but above all else, he was a  _ Malfoy,  _ and their goal would always be what it has always been to save their own necks. 

They would sell out their best friend to save their own necks, or worse their Lord’s just as they had done after the first war. The Malfoys were not Gryffindors, with a strong morality and bravery. They were not Ravenclaws with the desperate desire to learn all they could about the unknown and an evident sharp openness. They were not Hufflepuffs with their strong desire for equality and balance, or their kind hearts. They were Slytherins, and that meant just like Severus Snape they would do what it took to survive. They would do anything to meet the ends to their goals, without a care in the world for what might happen to those they did not care about. 

“Is it just Ginny who is still alive?” Hermione asked him, after she sat down in the armchair Severus normally took. “And where is she now?”

Draco started to speak, but Severus cut him off having appeared instantly, he said “I have the potion now, so are you going to take it? Or do I have to make you?”

“I never remember you being this crusty, Snape,” he remarked. “Did my mother ever tell you that you were my favourite Professor? But, that was because you weren’t such an arse to me. Well now you're not, and I see why no one else liked you.” 

“I never liked you either, Mr. Malfoy, I thought you were a spoiled rotten brat, but I could never say that because I had to make the other Death Eaters believe I was on their side. I find you just as insufferable as I do all my other former students.” 

“What about Granger, do you find her insufferable?” Draco teased, giddy as if he thought everything simply was a joke. 

Hermione did not believe that not one single bit. Something said he was using it as a coping mechanism  because of everything Draco had taken on, all he had seen and all that he had done during the War.

“She is the most insufferable of all,” Severus drawled, though Hermione caught the small smile on his face, and he reached for her hand when she walked over to stand next to him. “But, now is not the time to go on about things that do not matter. Either take the Veritaserum, or I will Obliviate you and  Apparate you to some random location.”

So there was a fondness for Draco, Hermione mused, though the man would not admit it. Surely he would kill anyone else? Not that it was wrong he wouldn’t, Severus was not one for needless killing no matter how cruel he could be. Cruelty and murder were very two different things. Knowing what she knew now, he did not want to kill Dumbledore, asking the man to find another way, but that was then, and this was now. Hermione was snapped out of her rambling and downright useless thoughts that had no bearing on the situation that they were in by Draco, who snatched the potion vial from Severus’s hands.

Dropping three small drops on his tongue, Draco rolling his pale blue-grey eyes as he did so. It hit him like a ton of bricks, and the Malfoy heir looked drunk.

“How do you know he’s not blocking it? She asked Severus, who did not answer.

“Because he’d rip through my mind, Granger, like how a dragon rips off a piece of meat. I have no interest in that even if my name means dragon.”

“Mr. Malfoy, said exactly why I do not fully worry about him blocking it,” he muttered. “Though if he tries, I should be able to know, and there are far more painful ways to do this, and I surely will not care much for what is left when I am done if that is the case.”

In another life, in another time, in another place, words like that together would have made Hermione sick, but now they were just reality. If Malfoy tried to lie to them, he was not a friend, but a foe, who happened to try to be actively deceiving them. Which meant there would be no kindness for him, and Hermione would have no sympathy either. If he knowingly betrayed Snape, knowing what the man was capable of? Then Draco would get exactly what he deserved whether the Hermione of old would like it or not. 

Severus began questioning Draco, and it felt like a rock was sitting in the bottom of Hermione’s stomach. The monotone of Draco’s voice when he answered the questions made her rather uncomfortable, rubbing her wrong in every way that was possible, people weren’t supposed to talk like that. People weren’t supposed to behave like that either though. But, it had to happen. They had to know if he was on their side or maybe if Draco was here to spy on them. 

“What was the thing you were most scared of as a child?” The potion’s master asked. 

“I was scared of Flooing the fires always bugged me,” Draco answered. Hermione so desperately wanted to giggle at the fact, wondering if Severus was testing if the other man was actually being honest or if he was trying to make her laugh. 

“How did you know I was here?” Severus asked calmly as if considering what was for dinner. How could he be so calm about such a thing?

“I knew because my father has papers on the Prince properties, after figuring out such a thing where you were I set fire to the papers, so no one else would be able to find you,” he responded. 

“What happened to Ginny Weasley after you encountered her?” Hermione asked him, that was the real thing they needed to know. Nothing else honestly mattered if he had turned her in.

“I sent her by Portkey to France with her brother. I used the charmed Portkey my mother had given me only to use if something went terribly wrong.” He said, “she had been in hiding with her parents until her father was killed. I had been sharing information with them, and we didn’t mean to fall in love, Hell it just happened. We were caught, so I sent her to Bill and his wife.”

Severus turned to Hermione, his black eyes bright, she began wondering if he felt a spider that had caught something in its web. They were going to gain a lot and lose nothing hopefully. 

“Why did you come here then, considering the Weasley girl is now safe?” 

“I would like to join her, because I also want to bring my parents with me. I need something from someone the Weasleys trust to help my case about my father, so they don’t kill him on sight,” Draco stated. “Because I too. Want to be part of the War no longer, and I know you want to leave this country. Severus, I owe you a lot for doing what I could not, and I do not like my debts unpaid. I will help you if you are willing to help me.”

“Only if Hermione and I can have one of those Portkeys your mother has a habit of making, though not to France.”

“Where? Where are you planning on going?” 

“That is for me to know, and for your mother, to find out when I need her to,” Severus snapped. “The same reason why I shall not tell the Weasleys what your father did in the first wizarding war. I am sure your father remembers all that I have done for him just as I remember all that he has done for me.”

**************************

Draco had left Severus made quick work of writing a letter to Narcissa, that her son would bring to her. When the blond had asked the man what the letter contained since Severus had sealed it with a charm that only his old friend could open it the only response his former student had gotten was,  _ “that is not any of your concern Draco, just take it to her. Your mother will know what to do.” _

The man seemed more quiet than usual, more sullen as well, Severus seemed just off to Hermione. 

“Why are you not using magic to clean the dishes? He asked her, “Surely, you do not like having your hands deep in soapy water?”

“It calms me,” Hermione mused, pulling her hands from the soapy water. “And charms never get things as clean as doing them by hand.”

“That may be so, but honestly, you do not have to do that.”

“Like I said, it calms me,” she said after pulling the plug on the sink and drying her hands on a dishtowel. “What do you actually want to talk about, Severus, because surely it is not my desire to do the dishes by magic?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said quietly, staring out the window beyond her. 

“Sure you do, Sev I have gotten to know you over the years. I know you are hiding something, so please just spit it out.”

“Would you like to join the Malfoys and the Weasleys in France?” Severus asked her, shoving his hands into his pockets, shifting from slightly. “You would be safe there.”

“What about you, would you join us?” Hermione asked him. 

He stared down at his bare feet and said nothing. 

“Must you continue to assume my feelings for you? Must you continue to assume that I do not love you? Severus Snape, I care for Ginny a good deal, just as I do Bill and the others, but I love you. Don’t you understand that I love you? So no, I will not go to France without you. If that means not going to France then so be it. I will go to the end of the earth with you, wherever that may be.”

“I needed to know that,” Severus told hold of her face, pushing Hermione’s hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. “I needed to know that because of my situation, my  _ position, _ I must be unreachable and am not willing to risk what is left of the Order. I must go where the Dark Lord would dare not to look. The man has been to Europe he knows where to look, the Malfoys are small fish in comparison to the promises I have made to him. But, he is scared of the American version of the Ministry of Magic, or MACUSA as it is known. I do not understand why he is scared of them, but as it stands, the Dark Lord is.”

“So that is where you plan for us to go, and why did you not just tell Draco?” She asked him, “Or is it that you still not trust him?”

Severus led her to the chair he normally sat in by the fire, pulling her into his lap, wrapping his arms tightly around Hermione. “I do not trust anyone, but you, that is why we will not stay exactly where Narcissa’s port key sends us. But also I warn you once we get there we should not interact with the magical world if we can either. So, understanding to stay with me, with my betrayal to the Dark Lord, is leaving everything behind, possibly even the magical world itself.”

“I am a Muggleborn, and honestly I have figured just as much, for better or for worse. We must do what we must, and that means staying together. So for the love of Merlin, will you please, Severus, I beg of you to stop trying to send me away?” Hermione turned to face him, her hand going to his face, and then easing its way to twist into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck, “a child needs both of their parents. And I need you.”

The big wide world was out there, and it was just beyond the horizon. Just waiting if Narcissa agreed to help them that is. They could have a real life, and their  _ child _ could have a life. They could be a real family. A family like any other. Living as a Muggle or not, it was a chance at a new life, a beautiful life. That was just out there waiting for them. If only they could reach it. 

“I have no right to ask this of you, Hermione Jean Granger, nor do I have a ring to give you, but I ask you with the little I have to offer. Will you marry me?”

Hermione did not know what to say and was at a loss for words; she ended up chewing on her lip trying desperately to find the words to say, desperate to put into words what she was feeling. It was not that Hermione did not wish to marry him, or even that she wanted to wait for a better time, it was just the simple fact that surprises had never been something that Hermione had ever been into. Long ago, she had imagined herself in such a situation, a man that Hermione loved asking her to marry him. 

Surely though when that happened she would have a good job, a life, friends to share the news with. But, most of all, Hermione did not expect that she would be pregnant. That part of the choice that she was making would include someone else, just not herself. It was best for a child to have two parents - two parents who loved them - two parents who were together, who were married. Hermione knew she loved Severus no single doubt about that, but to promise herself to him…  _ No _ , Hermione thought,  _ this was not school, books or even knowledge. This was love and love didn’t always make sense and there was nothing wrong with that fact.  _

Hermione knew it in her heart and in her soul she loved him, she loved him as dearly and as deeply as she could ever imagine. Her love for him was sharp like a blade that could cut through all things. It filled every single bloody part of her. Hermione loved him in the end that is all that mattered.

“Hermione?’ He asked her worry, cutting lines sharply into his pale face. It made Severus look far older than he actually was,”I should not have asked you, it is too soon. Forget that I even said anything.”

“Severus Snape,I did not say anything not because I do not want to marry, but because I wanted to say  yes in a way my future husband with his rather good way with words, would be impressed."  She said to him brushing her thumb over his pale bottom lip. “But, yes, Severus, I will marry you. I promise myself to love you all the days of my life.”

Severus didn’t need to know about Hermione’s fear, worry, and the small amount of doubt that she carried with her, or at least that is how she felt. All that mattered, in the end, was the fact he loved her, and she loved him. Everything else was just window dressing, or at least Hermione hoped it was.  __

  
  
  


  
  



	8. Chapter 8

“If I can still breathe, I’m fine.”

Severus hadn’t touched Hermione for a week, he barely spoke at all. Severus had barely left the basement where he had set up his potion’s lab. He tended to come to bed in the early hours of the morning silently, and Severus would fall into bed without a word, snoring before his head hit the pillow. On day eight, Hermione stared at him; his greasy black hair clung to his pale face, it seemed the cause of the grease in his hair was potions fumes— like she had always assumed. 

Hermione reached out, brushing it out of his face, she shouldn't have. Severus had been working so hard, but she missed him. She missed Severus, and while he was still here right next to her. Severus may as well have been on the moon for close as they were to each other, emotionally at least.

“Hermione,” he muttered. “It’s really late, or really earlier depending on how you look at it.” 

“Sorry, Sev,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, we haven’t talked at all in the last week or so.” 

“I have things I have to get done, for us to be able to travel. We don’t know how long we will travel once we go to the states or when we will actually settle down, or where that will be. It’s better to be safe than sorry. The more common and even harder to make potions we have, the better off we are. We might need them, and what we don’t we can trade in magical cities before we get settled.” Severus rambled on sleep, making his voice monotone though, “so, no, I am not ignoring you on purpose.”

“Did Narcissa send you a letter with her answer?” She asked, “is that why the eagle owl is in the living room on the perch, you found Merlin knows where?”

“Yes, she should be ready in two weeks,” he murmured, already falling asleep once again. “Now goodnight Hermione, I’ll take tomorrow off from working on the potions so that we can talk, but to do that I do need some sleep.”

“Severus, you know I could help you with the potions, don’t you? I wasn’t bad at them, it wasn’t my best subject, but I am passable at them. Though your teaching did not help matters.”

“No, actually you can’t.”

“Yes I can, I am capable of making most potions, all of which we both learned in school,” Hermione snapped clearly, not pleased with how Severus was acting. He turned over to face her, fully awake now staring at her with his intelligent black eyes, though they clearly showed that he was in a mood, the moonlight through the curtains making his skin paler as white as snow and his hair as black as midnight. Severus could not ever be considered classically handsome, though Hermione herself, at least in her opinion, classically beautiful. The man was interesting looking, and there was something about him that drew her like a siren song, that had nothing to do with looks.

“You can’t. It’s not safe,” Severus said softly placing his finger over her lips to quiet her before Hermione could speak. “You are pregnant, potion fumes could harm the baby, so no, you cannot help. I know you are capable of helping, love, you are bright, one of the brightest witches of your age, if not the brightest, but I love you too much to risk your health or our child’s health. Now sleep, and we will talk tomorrow.”

Hermione turned away from Severus to avoid the desire to say anymore to him. He did need to sleep, they both did, as much as she would prefer to talk. Severus pulled her tightly into his arms, spooning behind her. Sleep took her back under its weight like a ton of bricks. Hermione too was tired, likely just as tired as Severus was, though she would never admit it. She shut her eyes. It would only be for a second or two. Sleep overtook her like being covered in a heavy wool blanket, but it at least was a comforting wool blanket. They had a lifetime to talk, but sleep was just as important as anything else as much as she would hate to admit such a thing.

*******************************

Severus was sitting up when Hermione woke up, he was drinking a cup of tea, holding the white mug in his nearly just as pale hands.The just rising sun streamed through the window, which was open, the light spring breeze catching the curtains in it making them billow like white sails. He wore no shirt, with criss cross scars across his pale chest, there might be a couple that looked like a buckle. Hermione ended up reaching out to trace it with her finger to trace it. 

Severus hissed at the feeling, but did not pull away. Touching her fiance sent little sparks on Hermione’s skin. “I am sorry, Severus,” she said with a sigh. “I am sorry someone did that to you. What happened to you? Who did this to you?”

His black eyes filled with the pain of the past and a hurt that Hermione could not even begin to understand, she yanked her hand away as if his skin had burned her. Severus turned away from her sharply and stared out the window, watching the birds in the trees. Hermione gripped the sheets trying to calm herself.

“I shouldn’t have asked that, I am sorry.”

“Hermione, you did nothing wrong.” Severus murmured, “ you have every right to ask and I should tell you. It’s harder to talk about than it should be, but that is because I am slightly ashamed of it, and haven’t really talked with anyone, not really even Lily. But, you should know about it because we are having a child together.” 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she said softly. “But, I am not here to judge you if you do want to tell me.”

“You know about why my mother ended up with this cottage, but my father hurt both of us. He was the cause of most of my scars, though the Dark Lord can claim a few as well. I had a rather bad habit growing up of trying to protect my mother, and would regularly get in between her and Tobias. When he was good and drunk, at least I think, he could not tell the difference between the two of us or at least he didn’t care about which of us he was hurting.”

“I hated him, Hermione, hated him with every single bit of myself I possibly could. I hated the parts of myself that reminded me of him. I am not trying to make excuses for myself, I did what I did.” Severus whispered, staring at his hands, “in wanting to be different than him I became him. I became the monster I wanted to get rid of. I realize now there are monsters who are wizards, witches and Muggles.”

“Scars are proof we have survived, and that is what makes them beautiful,” Hermione said. “They are beautiful in their own way whether you see it or not. Both of ours are.”

Severus sighed loudly, though he did not say a thing, but she did not need to be a Legilimens to know that he didn’t believe her. Hermione hoped one day her words would sink in for Severus, for their family, and so history did not repeat itself. So her child did not view themselves the way her fiance did. An odd idea crossed Hermione’s mind, a way to help Severus, she could make him see himself as worthy, but it would be fun and it would bring them closer. 

Hermione took his tea cup from him and set it on the bedside table, then leaning over him to brush her lips brushing over a belt buckle scar on his ribs, kissing it and sucking on it for good measure. Severus’ hand tightened down into her curls, hissing as he did so. “What are you doing?”

“Teaching you,” she teased, pulling away slightly. “Seems you are the kind of person who needs to be shown things through actions not words.”

Hermione moved onto the next scar, this one on his hip. His hand was even tighter in her hair now, knotting into them trying to guide her. “You witch, you naughty little witch. He asked hoarsely, “are you enjoying this? Enjoying what you are doing to me? I would prefer doing something to you though.”

His cock twitched when she nipped at the scar on his stomach, just below his belly button. Hermione kicked the duvet off the bed, tugging down his cotton sleep pants and took him into her mouth. She looked up at him, his black eyes boring down into hers. Severus was biting down on the back of his hand to keep himself from screaming, it only did so much though. The sounds of his moans filled her ears, muffled by his hand. His cock was heavy on her tongue, an odd taste that wasn’t exactly pleasant, but it was clear how much he was clearly enjoying it.

Hermione wrapped her hand around the part of him that did not fit into her mouth, she bobbed slightly up and down on it, pulling back to tease the head with her tongue. The muscles of his thighs tightened, his hands trying to push her off instead of pull her close. “I am close,” Severus growled, fist no longer at his lips, though he was trying to bite a hole into his bottom lip. 

Hermione pulled off of him, wrapping her hand around his cock tugging on it, catching some of the pre cum at the head to make it easier, once, twice, and three times he came on her hand. 

Severus picked up his ebony colored wand to vanish the mess. “Let me take care of you, Hermione.”

“No, Sev, this was about you not me. I am still rather tired, anyway.” She curled into him, pulling up the blankets around them after Severus pulled up his pajama pants.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Deserve me? I love you and you love me that’s all that matters in the end.”

“Rest we can talk later,” Hermione whispered. “You have time to worry about other things, right now I do not want to.”

***********************

Hermione woke up again this time to an empty side of the bed next to her, she swung over the side of the bed, and started to get dressed. Yanking off her night shirt, and digging around for her knickers, jeans and a jumper. Her hair stuck out like some sort of garden bush. Clinging to her face, and rather a bit like a brillo pad.There was no bloody hope for it at this point. Hermione tied it back in a bun, rather tightly and out of her face.

Spring was here, with its beautiful flowers, breeze and birdsongs. It felt like everything was starting to renew, changing and becoming more beautiful. Hermione walked out into the living room, she found Severus sitting on the sofa with all things, a kitten. A small grey kitten with sharp blue-grey eyes. The cat was no bigger than Severus’ hands. 

The animal was walking all over Severus’ shoulders and meowing in his ears. Its fluffy coat reminded her of Crookshanks. 

“You made a friend Sev?” Hermione asked, laughing at the situation, “he’s at least rather cute, if from the looks of it a little bit troublesome.”

“She is very troublesome,” he laughed. “She followed me inside when I went out for my morning cigarette. Just walked straight into the door like the silly cat owns the place. I think we should keep her though.”

“I thought you didn’t like animals?”

“I don’t, but I know you do,” Severus mused. “Didn’t you have a cat once?” 

“I did, Sev,” she stated, surprised he remembered . “His name was Crookshanks. I left him with Bill and Fleur. I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” Hermione changed the subject abruptly, “did you have pets once? Growing up I mean.”

“I did once, long ago,” he whispered. “Lily and I found a box with two kittens in it by the river. One a white little male that she took home with her, and I took the little black female. Lily’s cat ended up going to Hogwarts with her…”

“And yours, the little black kitten?” Hermione asked him. “Did you take her to Hogwarts with you?”

“No, I did not.” Severus swallowed harshly, and stroked the grey kitten’s fur. “My father saw black cats as bad omens, as another example of the wrongness of my mother and I. Part of the magic that he hated about us quite a bit. I hope he gave her away, I hope he was not cruel to an innocent animal.”

“I am sorry.”

“It was decades ago, Hermione, what is done is done, nothing you or I can do to change what has happened no matter how much we wish we could,” he murmured, scratching the cat under her chin. “We shouldn’t dwell on what we cannot change, nothing can be done about the past, only the future, and honestly there is a kitten who now needs a name, and I am rather terrible at picking them.”

“You found her so you should name her,” she laughed. “Everyone hated the names that I picked for animals. Ron and Harry thought the name Crookshanks was stupid.”

“Didn’t that have more to do with the fact he helped Black and tried to eat Weasley’s rat?” he asked.

“Yes, but Sirius wasn’t evil and Ron’s rat was Pettigrew, so he actually was doing the right thing.”

“We can agree to disagree on Black,” Severus said, rolling his eyes, standing up with the kitten still on his shoulders. She was now purring in his ear and batting at his hair. “But, my point was their dislike of Crookshanks name was not exactly dislike of his name, but dislike of the cat’s actions. So what do you think we should name this troublemaker?” He took the cat and held her out to Hermione, the animal meowing loudly, and trying to cling back to Severus’s body. 

“We could call her Aster, if you like it. It’s something my mother always used to grow them into our garden, and it…”

“Is a way to honor someone who was my friend, without outright stating it,” he said softly, placing the kitten back on his shoulder. “Well Aster seems you have found yourself a home, though I will tell you we are an interesting pair, but the fact that you walked straight into our home like you belonged means that you're quite a bit like other Gryffindors I know, but I have grown to care about some of them a quite deal.”

“How are we going to bring her with us?” Hermione asked, “I don’t want to leave her behind.”

“Aster is small enough to fit in a bag, and while she might not exactly be pleased with it, it will keep her safe. Now would you like breakfast?”

“Yes, but I think it’s basically lunch time now isn’t it?” She mused, “But, then we should start going through things, deciding what we want to keep and what we want to get rid of.”

Severus went to start breakfast, not removing Aster from his shoulder. No matter what he said Hermione knew that kitten was not hers, but honestly it was nice to simply have the cat around. The smell of the frying bacon hit her like a ton of bricks. “Actually, I am not that hungry.”

“You there are potions to help with that, right?” he asked. “I can get you one if you would like?”

“Please,” Hermione groaned softly. “Though I do not think I will have any bacon.”

“More for me then,” Severus turned off the burner of the stove. Walking off to go dig out the potion for Hermione. He found it quickly and then walked over to her and handed it to her. “Here I believe this should be able to help.”

“Thank you, Sev,” she said softly. Hermione drank it down noticing her queasiness disappearing instantly.

Severus said nothing, the kitten now wrapping herself around his legs, always wanting to touch her owner. He finally added after a few moments of silence, “it should be done in a few moments, mind setting the table?”

“No, I don’t.” This felt as if the calm before the storm, they had one more week before Severus and Hermione left all they both had ever known. It could not be forgotten in the calmness of domesticy, in the calmness of playing house. She hoped that one day this calmness could become their reality, but knowing that might not be the case. No matter how much you desire things, sometimes they might not be. Happiness is only something that seemed to her that you could only truly chase and never actually reach. At least not witches or wizards. 

Hermione hoped her parents were happy in Australia.That they did not feel like they were missing anything, that they did not feel like they had lost anything, but Merlin only knew. She felt like she had lost something. Most people expected when they had their own child their parents would be there to help them, to support them to answer their questions. But, her parents didn’t even know she existed and Severus’ mother was likely dead as well.

Severus sat their breakfast on their plates. Bacon on his, and on both toast and egg. He sat butter and jam at the center of the table. Pouring each of them a cup of tea, his cup black and hers with milk and sugar just the way she liked it. 

“What’s wrong? The potion did not help, we can try another if you would like?” He asked her, reaching for her, placing his hand on her cheek. “You need to eat, Hermione.”

“It’s not the food, Severus, which actually smells good. I might even try some of that bacon,” she said snatching a piece of bacon off his plate and eating it. It actually was rather good, though slightly a little too over cooked. “I was just thinking about the fact that our children will not have grandparents. How I will never see my parents again and I hope that they are okay. I took their memories to save them, so that they could live, so the Death Eaters wouldn’t have a chance to hurt them to get to me. I don’t regret it, but it doesn’t make me miss them any less.”

“Do not blame yourself, for the things you feel. Feelings are valid even if they are painful, even if they aren't the same as everyone else’s,” Severus said, brushing a curl that fell from her bun back over her ear. “You can feel whatever you want and it’s not my place to tell you whether or not those make sense, or if you should be having them. That is up to you. I was never close to my parents, neither of them. My father because of his behavior, and my mother because of the distance his behavior caused her to be from reality. From the little I have learned about your parents over the years they were the type of parents one would miss, even if letting them go was for their best. But, you know what we can to remember them?”

“What can we do?” Hermione asked, with no idea of what he might say next though she did take his words to heart. 

“Try to be like them, be good parents, they raised you well. But, also be like the type of parents my mother wished she could have been,” Severus whispered and kissed her forehead softly. “I love you, I hope you realize that, now you need to eat, and then we need to pack.”

“We do and thank you for reminding me that I don’t have to be okay.”

“The world is not okay, so why in bloody hell would either of us be okay?”

“You have a point,” she said and picked up a piece of toast and took a bite of it, sitting down and digging in. Smiling at him, and hoping for more moments just like this, the moments of understanding and comfort.


	9. Chapter 9

“Wear your tragedies as armour, not shackles.”

Everything was ready, and all things were packed. There was nothing left to do. The few things that they were taking had been shrunk and shoved into coat pockets, besides the potions which could not be. Aster sat in another bag, her angry ice blue eyes filled with displeasure that only a cat could express, though Severus came quite close to that expression regularly. Her grey coat stuck up in tufts.

Hermione tugged on her wool coat. It was heavier than usual with all the items which had been shoved into its pockets. The one thing that they would not be taking was the portrait of Severus’ grandfather. They were not sure about the man’s loyalty, painting or not. Or for that matter if there were any other portraits he could travel to and whose homes they were located in.

It would stay here in the basement where they had found him. Maybe one day when the war was over, or things had settled, someone would return to this place and find him once more. 

Hermione hoped it would be possible for them to return - England was their home after all - even with how wretched it had become. This place held memories for her and for Severus, it was something that could be marked darkly in the time of their life that it had changed them for the better.

Not everyone could pinpoint a time in their life that made them exactly who they were, but both Severus and Hermione could claim that. Severus pulled on his own coat, then wrapped a cloak on over it doing the same to Hermione. The man insisted that they wear cloaks, being that could blend in easier if they had to interact with some in the wizarding world. Pulling the hood over her head Hermione let out a sigh.

“Anything we forgot?” Severus asked her, reaching out to brush his cold fingers over her cheek. “I know this is hard, but when it’s said and done it will be worth it, you know that right?”

“I do, Severus, and I am happy to be leaving, but…” Hermione mused. “And I believe that we have everything, well at least everything we need.”

“It’s still hard because this country is all we both have ever known and this place has become our home,” he said to her, removing his hand from her cheek and shoving his hand into the pocket of his cloak. “We made it together, carving out a life for ourselves after having to hide in a place that only had pain for both of us.”

“It’s time to face the music, I guess,” she muttered. “Narcissa also has me worried if she’s exactly loyal to herself or us or the Dark Lord.”

“I trust her, Hermione, I have known her most of my life. She is not like Lucius; Narcissa is no more loyal to the Dark Lord than I was before everything happened.” Severus picked up the brass owl cage that held Narcissa’s eagle owl and said, “she is not loyal to herself, her husband, or even us. Narcissa is loyal to Draco, her son first and foremost. Now let us go, it is time, and we shouldn’t be late. That is something that she  _ would _ be frustrated about.”

Hermione reached out to scratch Aster’s head before Severus hoisted the bag that held the cat on his shoulder.

“Be good little one,” Hermione whispered. As if the cat understood what the woman said to her, the cat meowed sharply, as if to state her displeasure at Hermione, who she merely only tolerated at best most of the time. The cat batted at Severus’ hair and purred into his ear. “I think she hates me,” Hermione muttered.

“She’s a cat, she dislikes everyone, at least some of the time, that’s part of their job,” Severus laughed, scratching the cat’s chin. “Be nice Aster; I happen to like Hermione quite a bit.” 

The cat grumbled once again, Hermione did not want to admit out loud, but it was not that cats were stupid, they just did not care what people think like dogs seemed to do. Aster might be karma for how Crookshanks acted to everyone else, but that did lessen the wound of the animal’s dislike. Maybe when things settled down, Hermione thought,  _ she could get a cat of her own or a dog _ . Something which Hermione had always wanted, a dog. Her parents had forbidden such a thing for as long as she could remember. 

Hermione twisted the brass doorknob for one last time and stepped out into the light of the setting sun, sighing as she did so. Better things were to come no matter how distant such things felt at this instant. Severus was behind her, his heavy boots clunking on the porch as he followed her out. 

Birds were chirping in the distance, the sound filling Hermione’s ears with their beautiful music. Squirrels played chasing after one another up the trees. The sights and sounds filled her with joy, life was still going on, and soon they would be able to live a life like anyone else. It was so close that she could almost taste it. Hermione turned to face Severus who seemed to be fighting the urge to smile.

“This is a good thing, even if it doesn’t feel like it in this instant,” he mused. “Let’s go, love, this place will be here if we ever can return to it, and if not, we have brought the memories with us.” Severus held out his hand out for Hermione which she took.

Apparating felt like being shoved through a small hole and being pushed straight out of it. They landed in the field, and Hermione proceeded to lose the tiny bit of breakfast that she was able to eat. Severus yanked her hood back and held onto her hair to keep it from getting into the vomit. Hermione thought it was over, but then she ended up dry heaving.

Narcissa walked over, standing over Hermione, her dress brushing along the ground along the way . The woman was like a queen of old, peering down at the couple. The woman clearly thought highly of herself, and that fact came off the woman in waves. The other two Malfoys hung back, not daring to come closer, wanting to keep a distance from the couple who had joined them in the field.

“Surely, Severus, you know how to make the potions to stop such things from happening, you made mine when I was pregnant with Draco,” Narcissa snapped with an air of authority. “Now it makes sense why you turned traitor, you always had a thing for Gryffindor Mudbloods, didn’t you?”

“He has made me potions,” Hermione growled, finally done losing the contents of her stomach, pulling herself up as she did so. “But, they only do so much. Apparating has never been kind to me. Side long, has always been worse.” Hermione did not speak exactly why. Dobby died after Apparating them, Ron was splinched, and the action had never been something she enjoyed, to begin with.

“Keep your slurs to yourself, Narcissa,” Severus snarled, his face pinching as he did so. “Your son has his own things he has done. Do not fling mud at me when you have the same in your family. The Malfoys are no more pure than I am, and in their desire to stay pure, has led them to madness. Look at your sister and your cousin Sirius as examples of such.”

“We are not here to argue about actions or choices; they matter little. We are here to leave this bloody place that is what we all want, isn’t it?” Draco asked, stepping closer as he did so his long white-blond hair hanging in his face. “Mother, Hermione saved my life during the battle, along with Potter and Weasley. We all have lost someone in this war and the aftermath, and we should not attack those who simply want to survive just like we do.”

“Listen to your son,” Hermione said to the older witch. 

She pulled Severus closer not out of fear, but the desire to be closer to him, or at least that is what she told herself was the reason. Fear did her no good, what was to happen would happen, fear only caused you discomfort while it was happening. Hermione was afraid of them, at least Lucius having been that he had tried to kill her multiple times over the last few years. “What is done is done, and there is nothing we can do to change it. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

Lucius was an enemy nothing would ever change that. That man was a monster whether or not that he had killed Ron or not. In another life Hermione would drag him to the ministry and throw him at the feet of the Aurors, friend of Severus or not. But, this was not another life. This was the only life they had and like Alice in Wonderland, Hermione was in a world where wrong was right and right was wrong. The Malfoys were helping them escape and that’s all that mattered. 

Nothing else. Ron was dead. Her and Severus were alive, their  _ baby  _ would be alive and that’s all that mattered. This wasn’t the world of simple or even balanced situations this was a world of making sure it wasn’t you who ended up dead from the killing curse. Hermione prayed to whatever God or Goddess there was that the Malfoys felt the same. 

“You have read Sun Tzu, The Art of War?” Asked Lucius. “It is not something I would expect from a Muggleborn.”

“Yes, I have,” Hermione said, pulling her cloak tighter around her. “I wouldn’t expect you to have. He’s a Muggle.”

“No, he actually wasn’t,” remarked Severus, turning towards her. “He was a halfblood, I believe. During that time, though, the wizarding world and the Muggle world interacted far more than they do now. Not unlike the Malfoy’s once did.”

Hermione could swear for a mere instant Severus smirked, though it was so fleeting it might have just been a figment of her imagination. Aster stuck her head out of the bag sharply, hissing at the wind, as if it and everything around them caused her displeasure. She was a perfect pet for Severus, and one day Hermione hoped she too could help the creature understand that letting down her guard would cause her no harm. Or it might just be wishful thinking, reading far too much into something that mattered little, it was just a cat after all.

“Do you have our Portkey?” Severus asked Narcissa, changing the subject not because he didn’t care about what his old friend had to say or Hermione herself, but the tension in his body his fiance could see. It likely had to do with the fact they were out in the open here. Visible in a way that hadn’t been in a rather long time and considering what had happened last time it made both of them uncomfortable. Severus wasn’t afraid of protecting them, but he did not enjoy killing.

“Do you have our letter for the Weasleys, as I requested?” Narcissa questioned, ignoring Severus’s own request. “We can do a straight forward trade; that way, we both will know we are getting what we want.”

“You don’t trust me?” Severus laughed borderline mockingly. “But, yes, I do. No one can deny that you are a Slytherin, Narcissa, for better and for worse.”

“I could say the same about you, Severus.” Narcissa said with a sigh, tucking a piece of golden-blonde hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear,”I will miss you my friend, and I wish you would join us, even with Granger. I am sure what’s left of the Weasleys would love to see her as well. I also thought I should let you know Lupin and my niece might have actually lived, that their deaths might be rumours, they and my sister are in the Americas it might be worth it to try and find them. They might be in a place called Cleveland, in the state of Ohio, I believe. There is a small magical community there.”

“She’s your sister now?” Hermione asked, as Severus dug out the letter from his bag, in another pocket from where Aster sat, to protect it from her. “She was blasted off the family tree, I would assume…”

“With all the death and loss, Granger, my opinion on such things may have changed. Nymphadora is rather powerful anyway - along with her husband - as is my sister, and I don’t doubt my grand-nephew is the same.” Narcissa claimed, her cold, blue eyes reminded Hermione of diamonds, beautiful, but quite hard. “The world has changed, and I would rather change my opinion than be like that monster who would have killed my son. Beyond that, I will likely not be able to see them anyway until this war is over and that might never happen, at least not until the Dark Lord is dead, but do tell them if you see them I wish them well.”

“We will. We will try to find them,” Severus said as he held out the letter to Narcissa, who held out the Portkey, an old metal bracelet wrapped in a dark blue cloth. They traded their items back and forth. “I am grateful for this friend, and I always will be.”

“You’re not your father, never forget that, Severus,” Narcissa murmured, reaching out for her friend. Hermione saw it then, that snide comments aside, the woman did care for the man. It made her respect the woman at least a little bit more than she ever thought would be possible. “I hope to one day soon I will see you again.”

“I hope for the same,” he responded, trying desperately not to show the emotion which lay under the surface. 

Draco chewed on his lip, and came over to his former professor. “Thank you, Severus, for all that you have done, I will miss you. I am grateful that I had a chance to know you. You taught me so much. I should have listened to you. I was so foolish back at Hogwarts.”

“Be better, Draco,” Severus said, resting his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “You have your whole life in front of you, use it. That Mark on your arm doesn’t have to define you. No matter what it feels like at times.” Draco wrapped his arms around Severus clinging to him tightly.

Hermione didn’t know what to do or even say. She felt like she did not belong here. That it was as if Hermione was sitting on something that vaguely reminded her of a family. These people were Severus’ family, even if they did not agree with each other on some things. They were still a family, and Hermione was taking him from them.

“I am going to miss you,” the Malfoy Heir said into Severus’ cloak, pulling away with tears in his light blue eyes. His former professor handed him the cage that held his mother’s owl. As if they both were trying to stifle the emotion they both felt. 

Next Lucius came over to Severus, his once thick, long, pale blond hair was thin, ragged around the edges and white. H is face did not mirror his wife's, the creases had more than doubled than the ones that had been there before, more than likely brought on early because of his time spent in Azkaban.

The man wore a wool cloak, over a long black overcoat with, black slacks, and black dragon-hide boots. Lucius was desperately trying to present as though he was still the rich, strong, dam- near-seemingly immortal pureblood that he had been during Hermione’s time at Hogwarts.

Long ago, Hermione had heard Harry say Severus looked downright disgruntled at the very suggestion that Lucius Malfoy had been in the graveyard when Voldemort had returned. That he was about as shocked as someone like Snape could be. Hermione had once thought it was because he hated Harry and did not wish to believe anything that he said. 

But the truth was that it seemed in this instant that maybe, at the same time, Severus knew it to be true; he was terrified that someone who was like family to him would be ensnared by the ministry for crimes he likely did commit. 

All of that was said and done now. The world had been turned on its head. Everything had been shaken out and poured out onto the ground. Up was down, down was up, right was left, and left was right. But, even in the darkest of times, there was love. Love for those who had been lost and those who were still here.

Right now in this moment as much as Hermione did not want to admit, as much as she so desperately wanted to see people like the Malfoys get what they truly deserved, Hermione saw that Severus loved these people. They were his family for better and for worse. She felt as clear as day that she was ripping him from them. For once in a rather long time, they were now on the same side as him, and yet they were not able to be physically close to one another.

Long ago the man had fought to protect Harry Potter to  _ honour _ Lily freaking Potter’s memory. Hermione wondered if that was still the case, but she knew with a rather strong realisation that was not the truth. If that  _ were _ the truth, Severus would be staying here in England; he  _ would _ not be leaving with her.

Neither Lucius nor Severus spoke a word. It was as if they did not need to. Like a crack of lightning striking the ground, Severus spoke his voice cracking with emotion as he did so, “I will miss you, brother, no matter what, never forget that.”

“The same, brother and we will see each other again, I promise you that,” Lucius said softly, his long blonde hair falling sharply in his face, covering one eye.

“It is time to go, Hermione,” her fiance croaked, as if he was holding back tears that he did not want to fall. “We should have gone a while ago.” Long, inky black hair was caught in the wind, flying around him like raven’s wings.

Hermione reached for Severus’ arm, holding onto it tightly, together they clung to the old bracelet as it took them away from the field, the small grey kitten along with them. They left all they had ever known behind in that instant. Hermione thought she had heard a sound that sounded nearly like a wail of pain from Severus, but it could have just been the wind. 

Surely as she stood, Severus would not make that sort of sound. Hermione held back her own emotions. It felt she had been stuck into a blender - at least her feelings. Hermione felt sadness, joy, elation but most of all love. Love for Severus that he was willing to make this choice for his family. For her and their unborn child.

The ground came down under her feet, she landed like a ton of bricks, but Severus caught her before Hermione could actually hit the ground. They were here, away from England. A ocean away from Voldemort, as shocking as that felt, as unheard of the idea after over a decade of him being a constant in her life. It was reality and truth, Severus and Hermione were finally free.

“I got you,” Severus whispered into her ear. “I have you in my arms and we are safe.”

Hermione felt her tears landing on her cheeks. The early morning light was coming through the trees, birds were chirping, the grass brushing against her cloak and jeans. Everything in the world was right. Perfect even. No Death Eaters rushing in to kill them, no wizards with wands stretched out and pointed at them, no mob with pitchforks, they were safe, truly utterly totally safe. Merlin, bloody hell, it felt as wonderful as anything ever had felt. Hermione could not find the words, not a single one.

“What’s wrong?” He asked her, his ebony colored eyes filled with worry and fear. “Are you in pain? Is the baby okay?” Aster growled in the bag that held her as if to state her displeasure at the whole situation. She was sticking her small grey head out of the bag.

Hermione pulled Severus close, letting out a giggle, shocking herself with the sound coming from her own mouth. She kissed him, and he kissed her back.

“We are free, Severus Snape,” she cried out after she pulled away from him, her small hand resting on her cheek. “Free as we'll ever be. Our child will not have to live in fear, and neither will we. Nothing else matters besides that fact. Nothing is wrong. I am just really and truly happy for once in a very long time.”

“We should start hiking our way to the town and find a place to stay, we landed in upstate New York, if I am correct,” he said, his tone rather matter of fact, though he did give her a small smile. Hermione pulled her hand away from his cheek and took his hand into hers, and together they walked to the nearest town, which happened to be a small magical village and along with that, to their future. 


	10. Chapter 10

“There are far, far better things ahead than any what we left behind.” C.S Lewis

Severus and Hermione made their way into the small town of Long Lake. This was a mixture of Muggle and a Wizarding town not unlike that of Godric’s Hollow. It was still slightly chilly now this far north. The town’s people were staring at them, from little details in their clothes Hermione could tell these people were witches and wizards. Dragon-hide boots, hats that were just a little too pointed, and cloaks instead of coats.

“Why are they all staring at us?” Hermione asked Severus, as she pulled her cloak around her tighter, “I feel like some sort of zoo animal.”

“To them, we might as well be zoo animals,” Severus muttered, as he gritted his teeth. “But, they are also making it worse by not trying to hide what they are doing. We should find someplace to stay at least for the night, it’s been a long day, and you need to rest.”

“That honestly sounds good,” she mused scanning the buildings in front of them a small building called the Riverside Inn catching her eye. “I think I might have found something,” Hermione said, pointing at the Inn. It had white walls and green trimmed window frames. The paint was chipped through it, an odd charm to it.

“I think you did now let’s go and try to see if there is anything available.”

Together they climbed up the old rickety steps. This place felt far more Muggle than Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley did, though it did have a charm all it’s own. They stepped inside the building with its oak wood floors, carpet that had clearly seen better days, and an older red-haired witch with glasses resting on her narrow nose. Her blue eyes made Hermione sick to her stomach; they reminded her of Albus Dumbledore.

“Good afternoon or evening actually I suppose,” the woman said. “I am Meri by the way, and I assume you two are interested in renting a room?”

“Yes, we are, though it should only be for a night or two,” Severus answered her. “How much will it cost?”

“Fifty dollars per night, check out is at ten am,” Meri said, staring over her glasses at them, reminding Hermione of Minerva. She desperately missed her former head of house and the dead Headmaster. 

Severus and Hermione both stared at each other, trying desperately to figure out what exactly that was in either wizarding or Muggle money.

“You two aren’t from around here are you, two?” The old woman laughed, then asked them, ”how far have you travelled? And where are you two from?” 

Aster popped her head out of Severus’ bag then and jumped onto the wooden floor. Then she leapt onto a chair and then up onto the counter. She began rubbing against the woman’s arm.

Hermione bit her lip, wondering if they should actually be honest with this woman, if they could actually trust her? Voldemort wasn’t here. The monster was an ocean away and unable to cause them any harm no matter what they said to anyone, but that didn’t quell her worry and fear that felt like a cauldron bubbling up under the surface. Hermione felt like she was going to be sick; it shouldn’t be that hard to answer a woman’s simple questions.

“Aster,” the potion’s master growled. “Quit that I am sure that the woman doesn’t want to be annoyed by you.” The cat stared sharply at the man; her bright blue eyes were nearly mocking him as much as a cat could do so. He walked over to the small animal and shoved her back into his bag, much to the animal’s dismay from the sound of her grumbles.

“So I am guessing you are not going to answer my questions?” Meri asked. “Whatever, keep your secrets, you two, but I do want to warn you this town is a small community and newcomers stick out like sore thumbs. You need people on your side if you plan to stay here.”

“We are just passing through,” Severus murmured. “We have travelled rather far and still have far to travel. All I can say is that Helen and I have been through a lot over the last few years.”

“Helen and I?”

“Stephen and Helen Prince,” Hermione added, smiling brightly at the woman. She never was a good liar but mostly what Hermione was telling her happened to be the truth. “Well, actually, we will be soon. We are engaged and plan to marry once we can find a minister to do so.”

“Well like I said, fifty dollars a night, paid at check out.” She stared down her nose at them and then said rather sharply as if Meri saw straight through both their bullshit.” “That’s about forty pounds sterling give or take. We can just forget the change and call it an even forty. Is that going to be a problem?”

“No,” they said together, and she handed them their room keys.

“Up the stairs first door on your left. I don’t want any problems. I don’t care what you have done or where you English folks are from. I just don’t want any trouble.” Meri muttered, and raised an eyebrow at both of them, “Do you understand? And think I might know a minster who will be able to help you.”

“Yes, and thank you,” they both said and climbed up the stairs to their room.

****************************

Hermione sat on the full bed yanking off her boots, throwing them near the door once she had finished. Severus was unpacking their things, silently. He stared out the window, a storm was brewing, the sky was darkening, and the window was slightly open. The cold wind was blowing in and causing them both to shiver. He shut it, slamming the window frame down.

“Why in the world would someone leave that, bloody thing open?” Severus asked, not really wanting an answer, though clearly quite frazzled about nothing that had nothing to do with an open window. He slammed it shut. “I don’t trust that woman, something about her just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“And I am sure she feels the same way about us,” Hermione muttered. “We are both acting quite odd all things considered. Not having a simple conservation with her, and not truly answering any of her questions. I think she knows that we are lying.”

“You are a rather bad liar, though honestly, we are going to be leaving in a day or two. I think I spotted a restaurant near here.”

Hermione simply nodded and said nothing. Aster was sitting on the nightstand. “Just give me a few minutes, and then we can get going,” she mumbled into her arm, which was resting over her face. “It feels weird to be here, interacting with people… I am just waiting for someone to jump up and grab us.”

“No one is going to grab us,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and then quickly softening. “Or at least I hope not. We aren’t worth chasing this far, and we disappeared into thin air. The only trace of us is…”

“The Malfoys which would both happily turn on us to save their own necks,” she said, staring out the window at the rain that fell. The tapping as it hit the window filled Hermione’s ears. With the repetitive tapping it, it wasn’t like she was going to get any rest anyway. “Let’s just get going, sooner we go the sooner we can get back here and sleep.”

Severus said nothing but simply nodded and off they went.

******************************

Hermione sat down on the barstool heavily with a sigh. This place was sticky, dirty, and smoke-filled. Severus pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one. Hermione wanted to smack the man upside the head. It was such a dirty habit and while she had been fine with it before… It wasn’t good for someone pregnant to be around it. Maybe it was the fact that he did not know or maybe he didn’t care. She hoped it was the former not the latter, but he was Severus Snape, a Potion’s Master.

Potions had little to do with magic, at least less than charms or transfigurations. They were more like Astronomy than anything else, magic and science inner woven in a way that you could barely separate one from the other. So in a sense, Severus was something which Hermione’s parents would understand Muggles or not. A man of learning and knowledge if there had ever been one. Which pissed her off more than anything when he took another puff of his cigarette.

“Why must you do that?” Hermione asked, snapping quite harshly. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“Yes, I do, and you were the person who insisted on having a cigarette not too long ago?” Severus growled, staring at her sharply with his black eyes that reminded her of deep dark pools. “It’s only my lungs that I am going to damage, is it not? Which are quite messed up from doing this since I was a child and honestly potions do far more damage than anything else.”

Much to Hermione’s shock, at least from the look on his face and what she knew about Severus it was just ignorance as shocking as it may be when it came to someone like the man in front of her. That didn’t make it any less frustrating, though it made Hermione a little less angry. Still, it did not stop her from doing what she did. Hermione grabbed Severus’ cigarette from between his fingers and ashed it out. Hermione wouldn’t have given a crap about him doing it if she wasn’t… That. Still struggling at times to think about that word when it came to herself. It was foolish to struggle with such a word, it was just a face Hermione Jean Granger was pregnant and that was just a fact.

The man let out an angry growl and was about to make a harsh and possibly cruel comment. Hermione could see it in the way his hands were clenched, and the look in his eyes.

“Don’t even start, just listen before you shoot your mouth off at me,” she said. “Cigarettes aren’t just dangerous to the person who smokes them, but all those around them. There is a thing called second hand smoke and it can affect someone who is pregnant.”

“I didn’t know…” He said softly. “I am sorry. It’s just a stress reliever, honestly. I will quit, though I don’t know how successful I will actually be at it.”

“You don’t have to quit,” Hermione said. “Just don’t do it around me and please only outside?”

“But you shouldn’t be in here then?”

“Where else can we eat then? The is nothing else open and nothing to cook with in that room,” she said, playing with her napkin as she did so, twisting it around her fingers and then tearing at it. A nervous habit of sorts at this talk about what someone should and shouldn’t do around someone who was that word, made Hermione realize she either needed to see a healer or a Muggle Doctor. Either way it mattered little to her, it was all the same when you rung it out. “I am not pleased to be here, but it’s not like we have any other options.”

The bartender came by then, her blonde hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her blue eyes bright. If it wasn’t for the fact… Nope Hermione wasn’t going to finish that thought, tons of people had blonde hair. Tons of people behaved X way. There also were tons of people in the world who did horrible things and not all of them were connected to what was going on in Britain. Their past was an ocean away and they had a life here; a life that they could live however Hermine and Severus wanted to. They just had to reach out and snatch it back from the world that had already taken so much from them. It was theirs for the taking; if only they held onto it tightly.

“Hello I’m Maisey, are both of you ready to order?”

No, this woman was not related to the Malfoys anymore than Hermione herself was, they wouldn’t be caught dead naming one of their children such a name. But, the woman’s name grounded Hermione in a way very few people besides Severus would understand. Meri’s odd comments didn’t truly matter, they were allowed to shape their life here, however they chose and anywhere on this continent It was a big wide world, now only they had to decide what piece of it they wanted and where that was going to be.

***********************************

Hermione woke up to the sound of growling and a cat standing on her chest. Severus was snoring softly next to her, his arm wrapped around her. Aster stared at Hermione with her sharp intelligent blue eyes, reminding her strongly of Crookshanks, who she still missed quite a bit.

“You are Kneazle mix, aren’t you?” Hermione asked the creature, though she did not expect an answer. Hermione wasn’t silly enough to believe an animal would respond back to her. Though the cat finally did lay back down between them and go to sleep, purring as she did so. The animal and her had finally decided to have a sort of truce in some sort of way.

Severus sighed softly stretching his arms over his head, his joints popping as he did so. His black eyes opened slowly and he stared at Hermione saying nothing. Morning light streamed through the window, birds sung outside in the tree closest them. No matter how far you are away from somewhere that was your home some things are exactly the same. Home is what you make of it, who is with you, but not where you are.

“Good morning,” Severus said softly. “How was your night?”

“Quiet and uneventful, which is honestly just plain wonderful.” She sighed, placing her hand on his hip, under Severus’ sleep shirt.

Severus lightly shoved Aster off the bed, who let out a frustrated growl as if the man had caused great harm to her. He pulled Hermione close and kissed her, fingers twisting into her curls.

Hermione pulled away, letting out a giggle as she did so.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her, eyebrows trying to shoot up into his hairline.

“Morning breath,” she mused. “I am going to go brush my teeth and then we can finish what we started.” Hermione pulled away from him, not waiting for what the man had to say. Her feet hitting the cold floors as she did so. Hermione stood and walked into the small bathroom attached to the room, she flipped on the light and then got work brushing her teeth. Severus came up behind her, sleep still filling his black eyes.

“Now, can we go back to bed?” Severus asked, turning to Hermione once they were finished.

“Sure,” Hermione said, smiling as she did so, then rocking up on her toes to kiss his cheek, “but, after we have to figure out where we are going to go from here.”

She turned away and started to make her way to her bed. Instead Severus grabbed her, pulling Hermione close. His hand snaking up her shirt, thumb tweaking her nipple as he did so. A moan slipped from Hermione’s lips and a chuckle from Severus’ own. He was enjoying this - she just knew it. Severus Snape was an arse, but he was hers. 

“Of course we will, but now I just want a few moments to forget everything else and enjoy each other,” he mused, shoving her curls aside and kissing her neck. “I want to make love to you, slowly. I want to take my time with you and have you screaming my name. I worry about nothing but your body and mine. I care little for anything else right now…”

Aster sat on the nightstand, yowling like she had lost her bloody mind. Hermione considered grabbing a pillow off the bed and throwing it at the animal. It surely wouldn’t hurt her, but it might get her to shut up.

“Sometimes I wonder if Crooks was actually this bad,” she said, her tone slightly joking, poking Severus in the side with her elbow.

“Worse,” Severus drawled, “if I remember correctly, though I think this is her “feed me” yowl more than anything.” Severus dug out the cat dish and a small amount of dry food for the animal’s breakfast.

“He was not, or at least I don’t think he was.”

Hermione sat down on the edge of the bed, knees bent, chin resting in her palm, watching Severus. It was odd to see him to take care of an animal. Surely no one from the past would believe her. This man to them was a caricature. A silly thing, the dungeon bat, he was so much more than that to her and in some ways he had always been. It was not that Hermione held any attraction to him all those years ago, but something had always told her there was more to him than met the eye.

Hermione missed them, missed every single one of them. Harry should be an Auror now, Ron should be doing something to make him happy, Arthur should be the joyful grandfather nearing retirement. Everything was supposed to be different. They were supposed to be here and yet they were not. Sometimes the sadness of it all came in waves, it was like one moment every single thing was fine and then it wasn’t. The pain wasn’t like a blanket anymore. It wasn’t like drowning. It was like placing your hand on a stove, it was sharp, painful, but then it was gone buried back under the layers of her mind and knowing herself that she had to keep going. That she had to keep trying. That she had to keep living.

“What’s wrong?” he asked her. “You were fine and then it’s like you were slammed with something.”

“I was, in a way,” she murmured, clenching her fists and straightening her limbs out. “I miss them, I miss them all. I shouldn’t be so bloody happy. I shouldn’t be acting like everything is as right as rain, when it clearly isn’t.”

Facing Hermione, his face was ten times paler than it normally was, his gaze was sharp, long gone was the man who was making jokes and playing with a cat. He was firm, but not hateful. Calm but not cold, and yet Severus had not even spoken one word.

“Hermione,” Severus said, grabbing her chin in his hand, his thumb pressing against her lips silencing her. “You are allowed to be happy, you are allowed to be upset. If you want to pick something up, within reason of course and throw it across the room? You’re allowed to do that. Happiness, sadness, and anger are part of the human experience. You are allowed to feel them all at any point and time, only a few of them, or none of them at all. Life is shards of our soul, pieces that make us who we are that have been stitched together like a quilt. Trying to shut any of your feelings off will do you not any bit of good.”

“Then why does it feel so wrong?” Hermione remarked. “Why does it feel so painful to be happy? Like I am breaking some sort of horrible rule. People are suffering in England, some might be even being killed, while we stand by and do nothing.”

“We have something else to think about, someone else to think about,” he snapped, though softening quickly when Hermione pulled away from him. Sitting down next to her, he leaned his head on her shoulder, kissing her neck. Then taking Hermione’s hand into his own. “We are going to be parents, a family and that is what matters most. When all seems lost? Remember that. That is what I am doing. That is what is stopping me from taking a Portkey back to England and sending as many of those monsters with me to hell as I can. I had to protect you and Ron, then you, and now you and the baby. Real living people matter more than memories, Hermione. It took a rather long time to remember that, I hope it doesn’t take you as long.”

“Can we just go back to bed? And wake up in an hour or two and try again?”

“We can stay here as long as we need to, it’s dirt cheap anyway, which just bloody shocks me considering there are no rats.”

“Rats?” She asked, unable to make sense of what the man actually meant. Hermione looked at him like he was from another planet. “Why in the world would there be rats?”

“It’s a rather long story to explain that comment, so long story short? It’s something from my childhood. Something that I would rather not talk about,” he grimaced. “Now let’s just lay down for a little bit shouldn’t we?” They did just that, Hermione’s thoughts bouncing between thoughts of the past and thoughts of why in the bloody hell would Severus assume something cheap would have an infestation of rats?

Sometimes she thought they each might have grown up on different planets and it had nothing to do with their parent’s blood statuses. It had far more to do with things that affected everyone, Muggle or wizard, but it was also far harder to talk about than just about anything else. The world was full of have and those who had not. The only thing Hermione could hope was that they could make sure their child had a better childhood than either of them. That he or she would not grow up in poverty, but they also wouldn’t grow up like Hermione had at Hogwarts - in fear of her life.

Sometimes though wishes were like horses, but only you cannot go for a ride. Would Severus and Hermione spend the rest of their lives running? Never being able to settle? Would their child never know a day without fear that Voldemort might come for them? Would they never know a moment of peace? It didn’t matter that they were an ocean away, sometimes Hermione could swear that she could feel the demon’s icy cold grasp reaching out trying to grab them.

It was just a figment of her mind and fear. It was time to set it aside. Hermione had the rest of the day to worry. Shutting her eyes, she curled into Severus and let sleep overtake her once again. Sleep it seemed was the only escape either of them had.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is really late and I am sorry for that. In the last two weeks I was in and out of the ER five days. My feeding tube site is infected and I have been on three different antibiotics sets. None is actually working and I am sort of just trying to hold myself together at this point. I am emotionally exhausted and drained.
> 
> Not sick enough to do something more than spin our tires, but not well enough to be feel good.

“She was chaos and beauty intertwined. A tornado of roses from the divine.” Shakieb Orgunwall.

Hermione stared out the window, Severus was out getting a few things, so she was only left with her thoughts. Soon it would be time to pack up and leave once again - it was weird to feel that, to want to move on and leave the wizarding world behind. Hermione loved the wizarding world and all that came with it, but she was sure it was going to be harder for Severus than herself. Magic from the little she knew was something mattered more to him than just about anything. He lived and breathed it for decades, and it was one of the things that he had left that brought him closer to his mother. That did not mean she would not miss it herself, Hermione would. It would feel like cutting one of her limbs off. Their pain was the same, but also different.

It was the only way to make sure their child would be able to actually have a life and that was far more important than comfort or what they were used to. And they still could use magic, they just had to leave the magical world.

Hermione heard a knock on the door, her mind going to the worst possible options of who it might be. Walking over to the door she opened it slowly, Hermione held her wand out as she did so. Preparing for the worst of who it might be, Hermione held her breath. Instead of a Death Eater, or the American version of an Auror, it was the Meri, from the front desk.

The woman was in a long sleeved dress with robes over it, the sight of her made Hermione’s heart ache with the memories of those who were lost. She hoped Minerva was still alive, but it was far too dangerous to seek the woman out. It was far too dangerous to seek any of them out.

“Hello, Helen, I don’t mean to bug you, but I just want to make sure you are alright,” Meri said softly, worry filling her tone and marring her face. “I shouldn’t stick my nose where it doesn’t belong, but I am worried for you. Something about your relationship with that man. Stephen something or other it doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Thank you for your concern, but we are perfectly fine,” Hermione snapped, clearly not interested in further conversation.

“Sweetheart, you can’t be much older than my own daughter, and that man looks old enough to be your father!” She said, shoving her way ever so slightly into the room. “I just wanted to let you know if you need my help I am happy to give it to you. There has been so much going on in England we only hear whispers of it here, but I know it has been bad over there.”

“I am twenty-four years old, Meri. I am not a child, though it seems you need your glasses checked that you cannot see that fact,” she snarled back at the old woman, trying to push the woman back ever so slightly. “Severus is someone I have grown to love. He is someone who has protected me, kept me safe and shown me nothing but love and kindness. He is also the father of my unborn child, so for the love of Merlin, please keep your wretched nose out of my life. I have seen things that you will never be able to imagine. Done things that would make you sick. I have lost so many chances to make choices for myself because of this war, do not try to assume what choices I have had taken from me. Because honestly, woman? Severus is one of the choices I have made for myself, and one of the few I do not regret.”

Hermione slammed the door in the woman’s face. Slamming her fist against the wall she screamed. Fuck, she thought, how could she of been so stupid? How could she have allowed the bloody woman to bait her in such a way? Why did the woman seem to care about what a young couple was doing when they were simply passing through. Hermione stood gathering the few items Severus and her own and shoving them into their bags. She screamed out of sheer frustration at it all. They had to run again, to leave. That woman now knew Severus’ real name and in the context it was from. She knew they were from England, the magical world and could easily make the jumps to who exactly they both were. Or someone else who decided to rip apart the woman’s mind.

Severus opened the door of their room. Standing there black hair soaked with rain, cloak swinging around him.

“What’s wrong?” Severus asked, as he seemed to try to put the pieces together of what in Merlin’s name was going on. “Why are you packing our things up?” He reached for the things in her hands and set them on the bed.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione laughed, mockingly, though it mostly directed at herself, not Severus. “Me and my stupid mouth. She made some comments about our relationship and in my anger I told her your real name, well screamed it more likely. I fell straight into the trap even if she didn’t mean to set it. So we have to leave Severus, because I stuck my foot in my mouth and I don’t know if we can actually blood well trust that stupid woman.”

Severus took her into his arms and kissed her hair. “Hermione, it’s not your fault. I don’t know what you said, but it doesn’t matter. We were going to leave soon anyway,” he mused. “Whatever she said really upset you, and I am sorry I wasn’t here.”

“She brought up your age and mine. She insisted that if I needed her help, she would help me.” Hermione picked up a jumper and threw it against a wall. “I just…I think the worst part is that Meri thinks she’s helping me.”

“People tend to believe that they are helping you when they are actually doing you harm. It’s apart of being human. I unfortunately understand it far too well,” Severus said to her, his palm resting on her cheek. “I love you and I don’t blame you, nor should you blame yourself, as much as I am sure you are going to. I have found a place for us to go next. We are going to have to start pretending to be Muggles, but it should be safer.”

They finished packing everything up, gathering it together and then Severus placed Aster into the bag once again, ignoring her grumbling as he did so. They walked out of the room and went to face the woman who was the reason that they were running, but also wondering how honest they should actually be to her. Was she just an old woman sticking her nose where it did not belong? Or was she something far more nefarious? It didn’t matter it either way, because it all came out to the same thing in the wash.

Down the hall they faced her, Meri, who was sitting behind the desk. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from saying what she would not regret.

“I am sorry if I upset you, Helen,” Meri said, softly. “I didn’t mean to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. It’s just…I tend to worry about things. What we have heard about… What has been coming out of England is worrisome…”

“Don’t you dare say his name,” Severus growled, holding out his wand, pointing it at her face. The old woman looked like death was standing in front of her, and in a way he was. Severus did not enjoy killing, but he would do it if he had to. “I don’t know if the Dark Lord can tell where you are even this far away and it’s best not to chance it either way.”

“I know who you are, Severus Snape.” She snapped, “and I am not scared of you. But, you should know now your kind wants your head on a platter now, so killing me will have both sides going after you.”

The woman’s body twisted as she changed and became someone else. Sitting before them was Minerva. Hermione’s former head of house and long ago a colleague and friend of Severus. Her brown eyes were hard and sharp as she stared at them. Crossing her wrinkled willowy arms over her chest.

“How and why Professor?” Hermione asked, the only words that she could think to speak, they fell from her lips, in disbelief and fear.

“The same as both of you, Ms. Granger,” Minerva scoffed. “I happen to like keeping my head attached to my neck and not being dead. You will find many of us, just like yourself have found ways to survive, we had to. Britain is lost, fallen under the control of a madman, so we went into hiding, hoping desperately that one day we would be able to see his death. Now how on earth did you two end up together… Unless, Severus, didn’t actually kill Albus?”

“I did and I didn’t,” Severus murmured, hand going to the back of his neck, tugging at his hair, and lowering his wand. No longer afraid, Minerva was a lot of things, but not a monster or something who would kill for no reason. “The curse was killing him, and I only shortened his suffering.”

“You have a daughter?” The younger witch asked.

“No, child not in the sense you might think. I was a teacher, as a Professor… Have had many daughters and sons. Some became light, some became dark and some proved me wrong quite regularly.” Minerva took a sip of her cup of tea, and smiled at both of them. “You both need to get going. Since you don’t have my talent of sorts.”

“What do mean, talent?” He questioned her. “You weren’t able to do this before? I know that for sure, Minerva and it’s far more than a talent. That’s impeccable spell work if I do say so myself.”

“It was out of desperation, my friend,” she said, softly. “I am not Pettigrew, I couldn’t spend the rest of my life as a cat.” 

“Do you believe there is in any place we can be safe, Professor?” Hermione remarked, desperately hoping that there was some place that could be truly safe, but something in her gut said that might not be the case.

Severus and McGonagall stared at one another as if they were speaking without saying a single word.

“I am sorry I didn’t realize it, that you didn’t kill him. I should have known better, my friend,” Minerva said to Severus. “And no, Hermione, I don’t think there is any place safe in the Magical world for either of you. But there might be in the Muggle world.”

“We both figured that,” Hermione and Severus said together.

“I have an idea of places you will be able to go, but you two need a good night sleep first.”

Before Hermione followed after Severus, Minerva caught her arm, holding it tightly but not harshly. “I…Hope you know that I don’t hate Severus. I think I always knew something was fishy about Albus’ death. And it’s nice to see you both happy and alive.”

“Thank you, Professor,” she whispered to her former head of house. “I hope one day we can…”

“See each other again in happier times?” Minerva asked. “I do too, Hermione.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around the older woman tightly, clinging to her. She was happy to see Minerva again no matter how she did so was actually. Hermione had no words to say, so she didn’t bother to try.

“Take care of him, let him take care of you and you both take care of your child,” she added, “And bloody make sure that man makes an honest woman of you, if that’s what you want.”

The young witch joined her fiance in the room which they shared.

  
  


*********************************

Severus kissed Hermione like he needed her to breathe, like the only way to live was to touch her. She felt the same, in her own way. Hermione tugged her Severus’ shirt over his head. Him helping her with her jumper, which ended up getting stuck on her hair. They found themselves laughing at the silliness of it. Once they got back control of themselves 

Hermione sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off the rest of her clothing chucking them onto the floor. Her fingers went to Severus’ belt undoing it. Her hands wrapping around his cock tugging it softly.

Severus let out a soft hiss, his eyes shutting, his hand resting on her shoulder.

Hermione looked up at the evening light through the windows, and at Severus. The male was pale as anyone could be, hair sparsely over his limbs, though most was on his hair, under his arms and at his groin. Jet black contrasting sharply with his skin. Hermione dropped to her knees, ignoring the man’s vague protests of, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to, do you not want me too?” Hermione asked him.

“I would be happy if you did, but you don’t have to,” Severus murmured, rambling on slightly, clearly uncomfortable. Not upset with Hermione’s actions, but possibly the shock of fact that she wanted to do such things, to him. They both were odd in this way, both not fully understanding why the other wanted them.

“Yes,” he hissed, fingers tangling into her curls. “I want you to do that.”

Hermione wrapped her hand around what she couldn’t take into her mouth. Cocks weren’t attractive things, or at least Hermione didn’t think so. Doing this wasn’t about her - it was about him - about Severus. It was about the little noises he made, the way his hand would tighten into her hair, and the way his limbs would shake.

Severus’ cock was heavy on her tongue as she sucked down as much of him down as Hermione could. Then pulling back, tongue teasing the head as she did so. Enjoying the whimpers that fell from his mouth. His teeth clenching to stop anymore sounds from coming from his lips. Hermione wished that he would not do so - she didn’t want Severus to hide himself from her. As if Severus knew that he was giving too much of himself for her to see, he pulled away, his cock slipping from Hermione’s mouth.

“I don’t want to come in that pretty mouth of yours, that would be such a waste,” Severus said to her, his hand tightly in Hermione’s hair ever so slightly tipping her face up to him. “Be a good little witch and lay back on the bed.”

His thumb went to her lips, shoving it inside.

“Suck,” he ordered, and Hermione did so. “That’s my good girl. That’s my pretty little witch.”

Severus pulled his thumb from her mouth, pulling Hermione up and kissing her once more. He tasted like smoke from the cigarettes he swore he couldn’t stop smoking. Pleasant isn’t exactly how she would describe it, but it was just him. Touching her waist, and cupping her breast in his hand. Thumb pressing against it, rubbing it at first softly, then slightly twisting it ever so slightly. Hermione’s breath caught in her throat as Severus did so. Little shocks radiated through the area and snaking down to her core.

Hermione wanted Severus inside of her, no, she needed him. It was an ache she couldn’t begin to put into words, because surely if Hermione tried it still wouldn’t make sense. It was like asking someone why they needed to breathe, you just did. Something quite simple in theory, but so much more.

Pulling away from Severus to catch her breath Hermione leaned her head on his chest. He pulled her tightly to him, holding her in his arms. His nose pressing into her curls. Hermione could not tell where Severus started and she began. This is what everyone else seemed to want all those years ago, that she couldn’t begin to understand. It was why Ron thought Lavender was the most amazing thing to ever exist, and why Harry chased after Ginny like some sort of puppy dog. The end goal might be love, but this was a part of it, sex, attraction, desire and to be desired.

Hermione laid back onto the old quilt of the bed, getting herself comfortable among the pillows and then pulled Severus on top of her. The weight of his body ground her, made her feel alive again. His long fingers were inside of her, brushing the spot that caused her to cry out. Severus was inside her then, they began moving together slowly at first and then faster. He kissed her collar bones and she found herself tugging on the hairs at the nape of his neck. At one hard tug of her hand Severus nipped and then bit her throat rather harshly.

Hermione moaned at the feeling of his teeth into her flesh the ever so slight stinging pain of it. It felt strange but also right all the same. Their fear and worry bled into the act, leaving it with all that had happened and all that was to come. This was about escape and shutting off their minds. Hermione somehow ended up clutching at Severus’ back, her nails sinking into his skin, it was in all likelihood that she had left marks. 

“You’re an arse, you know that?” Hermione snarled into his ear. “A bastard if I have ever known one, but you are mine and not a damn thing will ever bloody well change that. Not people’s thoughts, not what they think, what they have to say, or anything but you telling me we are finished.”

Severus yanked her head back by her hair, making sure that Hermione could not look at anything but him. She felt trapped, down right pinned even, pushed to a point that the man had never done before. Instead of wanting him to back off, Hermione found herself wanting him to go further.

“If I am a bastard, Granger, what does that make you?” Severus growled, “It has to make you something, surely.” His fingers found her clit, pressing harshly causing her to arc into him. 

“Something got that tongue of yours? You always have so much to say, nothing now though, but maybe that’s a good thing.”

She was coming undone, little sparks spreading across her skin as she came down from it. 

“You make up for my silence with that mouth of your own.” 


	12. Chapter 12

“May you fall in love with someone, who never gets tired of saving you from your chaos.”

A few weeks had passed both quickly, but also slowly. That was how two of them ended up in this moment with the weight of it on both their shoulders. However, they were not going to escape it; they simply were trading one for the other. Hermione knew it in her heart; change was a good thing - even if it didn’t seem like it in this instant.

When Hermione imagined her wedding, she always pictured it to be in the church that she had been Christened in, where her parents got married. With her mother, father, and friends by her side. It would be a summer wedding, with white flowers and purple ribbons. It wasn’t that Hermione dreamed of being a princess and having a man come riding in on a white horse to save her.

No, Hermione Jean Granger was quite capable of saving herself if she needed to. It was about the comfortable and traditional things of life. Wearing her mother’s wedding dress and having a photo to put on the mantle. Was it silly and childish to cling to those things?

Possibly, but the truth was the fact this was the life that she had. This was the life Hermione had been given. This was how the story had played out and where the dice landed. Hermione stared at the reflection of herself in the mirror. Her brown eyes were strange to her, somewhat happy, but also a mournful nature to them. She reached for her hairbrush, yanking it through her hair. It was still wet and wild from her shower. Though Hermione surely wasn’t helping it be calm with the rough treatment she was giving it, but it felt good to be rough, calming to her.

It wasn’t that Hermione didn’t want to do this and it wasn’t just because of their unborn child. It was because she loved him. Hermione Jean Granger loved Severus Tobias Snape, and that was just a fact. Even if someone told her she could have anything, changing anything about her life falling in love with him would not be one that Hermione would choose.

She would bring her friends back, kill Voldemort, right the world to what it should be, but not give up the man she loved. The world with their judgment - it was not their place to make comments. They didn’t have to watch them; they weren’t a member of their relationship; they weren’t a fly on their wall. People should mind their own bloody business.

Hermione’s transfigured wedding dress hung at the door, and it had once been a sundress, one that she rarely wore and honestly thought was quite ugly. It had been Severus’ gift to her. A wedding present of sorts. It wasn’t exactly like her mother’s, though that likely had more to do with her failure to describe it than her soon to be husband’s skill. But, it had the same feeling.

White long sleeves of lace, a high neck, a-line skirt, a ribbon for a belt and the back were pearl buttons. Hermione and Severus might not have much, but they were good at making do with what they had. They both felt like they were strangers in a strange land in this country, but at least they had each other. They had to pull themselves together - for their child, for each other, and for themselves. 

Hermione gave up on her hair, setting the brush aside with a loud sigh. Being alone while she dressed was quite odd, alone with only her thoughts. Thoughts of the past, the present and the future. Harry’s smile when he greeted them each fall. Ron when he played Quidditch. Ginny at her brother’s wedding. Arthur’s bright smile as he tinkered with a Muggle object. Molly talking about the possibility of grandchildren. Fred laughing with George. Dumbledore on the ground…Dead.

Hermione reached for the wastebasket, losing the little she had been able to force herself to eat. Tears hit her cheeks, and the sound of her sobs filling her own ears, cluing her into the fact she was in fact, crying. That it wasn’t someone else doing so. Did Hermione even have a right to feel these things? Did she have a right to feel the anger that bubbled just under the surface? The sadness that shook her frame?

Hermione Jean Granger was one of the lucky ones. She was alive. The war didn’t disable her. She wasn’t…Alone. And yet, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from falling apart. She would tear apart the world to simply fall apart in her mother’s arms. But, the woman was safer not knowing she had a daughter, and that was how it would stay. Even if it felt someone had shoved a dagger into her back.

Steeling herself, Hermione pulled herself together, using her wand to button the pearl buttons with a silent spell. Hermione stared at herself in the mirror as she did her hair braiding it first with the comfortable pattern Hermione could do in her sleep. Then wrapping around itself at the nape of her neck then spelling it dry, pulling her bangs out of it and around her face.

The pain of this was not who would face her at the end of the aisle, but all those who should be in the pews. And by that, she meant all of them, even those taken when Hermione herself was just a child.

She took one last look in the mirror, staring into the woman’s mournful brown eyes, her cheeks that were still red from her tears, even as she scrubbed them away with her sleeve. Hermione wore no makeup, never being one for it. Pregnancy had softened her body. Gone was the teenager and in her place was a grown woman. Hermione looked like her mother besides the hair, which was now tied back and out of her face. It made her feel uncomfortable, strange, and wonderful all that same time.

A woman who was marrying the man she loved.

A woman who would soon be a mother.

A woman who had lost more in twenty-four years than most people would in their lifetime.

A woman who was going to be strong. A woman who was going to be the Muggleborn, who was pretending to be a Muggle, who also was going to be married to a former Death Eater. Bloody hell that was a mess, wasn’t it? But it was what it was, and that was a fact. Merlin, it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. At least not to Hermione.

She pulled herself together, walking from the room to face her own wedding day. It was a happy day for Hermione, even with all the sadness that existed in both their lives.

*************************

Severus stood there, dressed in all black, though today it was a Muggle suit. His hair was pushed back over his pale ears, clean and with a loose wave to it. He looked as uncomfortable as Hermione felt. One single person was sitting in the pews, her grey hair tied back, and her presence brought comfort that words could not describe.

Minerva or Meri or whatever they had to call her, long ago had merely been a Professor. Now she was like this little tiny red string, grounding Hermione, reminding her that she did have a past, that Voldemort had not swallowed it all up in his reign of terror. Gryffindor bravery had nothing on the strength to pick yourself up and keep moving. Keep trying. On surviving. Gryffindors and Slytherins might have once been, but now the three of them were only survivors.

Hermione was a survivor, and that’s what spurred her on. She loved him, Severus loved her. One day soon, they would be parents, and that was a wonderful and glorious thing. Their child and their family was like a transplanted tree, uprooted and replanted, but still strong and still alive. Still fighting, still keeping their heads above water. 

Hermione took one step, then another, and then she ran to him hobbling in her tiny heels that made her stumble. The sight of him, the sight of Severus, told Hermione that was doing the right thing. It spoke volumes that nothing else could. All that mattered, all that there was him and her. Everything else was just window dressings and that was okay.

Severus caught her as Hermione nearly fell flat on her face. His arms were warm, solid and comforting.

“I love you, Hermione,” Severus murmured. “You are so beautiful, love. And I am the luckiest man to ever exist on this planet.”

“I love you, Severus,” Hermione whispered, clutching his suit jacket and her small hands pulling him closer. “With every single piece of my heart, my mind, my body and my soul.”

The pastor was an older balding, Muggle man. Hermione needed to stop thinking about them like that. She needed to start thinking of them as just people. People just like her and Severus. Hermione needed to go back to the mindset she held long before she got her Hogwarts letter. It would be harder for Severus than it would be for her. The Muggle world held nothing but bad memories for him. Memories of a father who couldn’t understand, of a distant and broken mother, and a world that seemed to be created to destroy him. Poverty did that. It always did.

The wondrous stories about the wizarding world from his mother must have made it seem like this amazing escape that would rip him from all of his pain and sorrow. Like fairy tales, that you couldn’t even begin to describe. Like Dorothy in Wizard of Oz. Gone from the dreary black, white and grey world into one of beautiful colour. One of beautiful joy and all that is wonderful.

Until it wasn’t, was it Lily Evans who was to blame? Or maybe James Potter, or maybe it was like the wizard, it was all foolishness and falsehood and bloody fake. Neither world was better than the other. Neither was a fairytale. They were both just as damaged and as broken as the other. Both were willing to eat you up and spit you out. 

But, the difference was they were choosing the Muggle world because there wasn’t a madman who wanted to kill them in it.

Their vows were timeless and straightforward spoken by millions of couples before them and surely millions of couples after them. The weight of each word, comfortable like a tightly wrapped heavy blanket that reminded you that you were safe. That you were still alive and yet Hermione barely heard them, even though she practised them the night before.

Once the girl who could remember and ramble off lines from the books that she had read, seemed lost by something so timeless and grounded. Hermione would always remember I do… All that it meant and how much she loved him and how much Severus loved her.

Hermione tangled her hands into his hair, pulling him to her. Severus’ cheeks the lightest of pinks, or maybe it was just the light. Hermione kissed him. For once all the thoughts, all the ramblings, and all the worries left her. Heaven if it existed it was in this instant. His tongue snaked its way into her mouth.

Severus pulled away, smiling at her, he was blushing she knew it. His cheeks pink and Severus was crying, silently, he was smiling though so they were happy tears. And Hermione felt her own start to fall. This was right even if everything else wasn’t. She was going to miss Professor McGonagall, but they would have to leave, they would have to move to keep her safe and themselves, but most of all their son or daughter. As heartbreaking as that was. It was for the best.

Later Hermione and Severus stood as Minerva took their photo. The one for the mantel, that they would one day have with a Muggle camera of course. Her husband looked like he wanted to jump out of his own skin. First one his hands were shoved deep in his pockets while Hermione tried to smile though she was sure it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Loosen up, Severus,” Minerva laughed. “I am not going to murder you.”

“So you claim,” Severus said, his black eyes narrowing, his nose scrunching up. “Though, you of all people do have reasons.”

“Will you shush, Sev?” Hermione said, rising up on her toes to kiss his cheek. Minerva snapped a photo of it. “Now try and do your best to smile?”

He huffed, Severus smiled a tiny smile, but the truth was it quite genuine, and that’s all Hermione could ask. Life pulled them down like a lead weight around their ankles, dragging them under the waves, but this moment was breaking the surface and pushing their head above water. 

********************

Hermione sat there on the bed, Severus was untying his tie, his long pale fingers stark against the black of the fabric. Beautiful in a way, but also haunting. Hermione watched him glance at himself in the mirror, and then his black eyes shifting to stare at the ground.

“It’s no more different than it was before,” Hermione said.”You know that right, don’t you?”

“I do,” Severus said, with a sigh, still staring at the carpet under his feet. “I just never thought something like this would happen. I know it sounds strange. I know it…must sound stupid. But, honestly? I didn’t think I would live this long. I didn’t think anyone would ever want to call me husband. I didn’t think I would ever get to be like everyone else. Happiness was for other people, and I just wasn’t supposed to have it. I must sound like such a bloody freak, don’t I?”

“You are not a freak, Severus,” she asserted, reaching out for him, taking his hand into her own, clutching it tightly. “And you deserve to live. We deserve a life together. I love you, and nothing as simple as the feeling you are not worthy of it will ever change it. Now come here, it looks like you need help with those buttons of yours, you are taking far too long.”

Severus listened coming closer to Hermione, but not before hanging his suit jacket up. It was like a Dementor or at least the black cloak that they were made up of. The thing fell off, falling to the floor in a crumpled heap. Neither of them bothered to pick it up, leaving it on the cream carpet where it lay. Hermione undid the bottom buttons first, working her way high and higher. She kissed his belly, lean and thin pale as fish scales.

Severus reached for his wand, undoing her braid with it. Hermione’s curls were wild, riotous, more so than usual. His fingers tangled into them as she undid his belt. Hermione wanted her mouth on him. It was a weird feeling to want that. She took his cock into her mouth, once his slacks fell to the floor, going around his ankles.

Hermione stared up Severus, his face scrunched up in pleasure, like he was desperately holding onto something - holding himself back as tightly as he could. Severus let go, groaning.

“No, stop!” Severus said, biting his pale bottom lip as if he was trying to chew through it. “I want to be inside you. I want to finish inside you.”

Hermione pulled away, standing, and turning away from Severus to face the wall. He carefully went to work on the pearl buttons of her dress. Her wedding dress, the doppelganger or close as she could get to her mother’s. It fell to the floor around her, like a sea of lace. Unlike Severus’ own clothing; he was careful about hanging Hermione’s dress up as if it were something precious to him because it was something important to her.

That meant so much to Hermione; touching in a way words could not even begin to describe. Words were not worthy of such important feelings, and yet not saying nothing at all was even worse. It warmed her heart. The feeling was like sitting in the sun on a summer day. Severus’ actions were the way he told her he loved her, so Hermione did the same.

Voldemort’s torture over the years made it hard for Severus to brush his hair and his former student’s only added to the shame of it. The same with washing it. He didn’t like to admit it. Hermione was one of the few if not the only person alive who knew about it. She reached for it, and he pulled on his dressing-gown, black like everything else of his.

Hermione pulled on her own. Severus sat on the floor and her on the bed. It was calming to do this, not clouding the serenity of the silence with silly words. She raked the brush through his hair, causing him to sigh as he did so. There wasn’t something overly sexual about this, but there was something that was touching about it. Warm, soothing and touching every single part of her heart. 

When she finished, and Severus’ hair fell in loose soft waves, he turned and kissed her—pushing her down on the bed. Hermione felt the worn comforter under the back of her thighs. Hermione pushed off her dressing gown and pulled her husband closer. 

Severus kissed down her chest, nipping at her skin.

“You’re beautiful; you know that?” He said softly, looking up from her where he had scooted down near her belly. Severus looked up his hair covering one bright black eye, and he was slightly ever so slightly smiling. 

“Yeah or so you keep saying,” Hermione said, reaching down to twist her fingers in his hair. “Come here and kiss me.” 

“Nope, I would rather do this,” Severus mused, kissing her inner thigh. 

Hermione’s face heated up and a small slipped from her lips. His mouth was on her nub, sucking on it, and two fingers slipped inside her. She tugged on her husband’s hair and lost herself in the feelings, hoping that Severus would get on with it and make love to her. 

************************

Severus was sitting on the bed in the motel room, pulling on his socks. Aster sat purring next to him batting at the laces of her owner’s boots. They were leaving this place, heading into the unknown. Soon they would be truly strange people in a strange land. But, this would be worth it in the end.

For their child. At least Hermione hoped that. Soon they would disappear into this country, this vast landscape so unlike either of their places of birth.

But, here they would survive, and here they could make a life for themselves. Living as a Muggle was not a problem so long as they could live. They would be in hiding no longer. Not seeking the scraps of comfort that kept them surviving. They would no longer be just barely keeping their heads above water, and that would be worth it in the end.

Their son or daughter might not get to go Hogwarts, they might not get to be around other magical children, but what did that really matter if the only other option was death? It honestly didn’t. They would teach their child magic in their home, just like long ago, Eileen had done with Severus. Before he went Hogwarts that is.

They packed up the last of their things, stepping out of that motel room and into the next stage of their lives. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well it’s been a while on this, hasn’t it?
> 
> I have had these chapters finished for months (July second actually on getting this back from my beta for it.)
> 
> I shoved it aside mentally, I didn’t like the ending, I saw some problems in the story itself and honestly struggled with it.
> 
> I kept saying to would be next week and then the week after. I ended up in the hospital a couple of times. Fests and comps happened. I got drawn into other projects and outed the ending on this slightly for fear of someone being upset by the end. Because of that I shelved this mentally. 
> 
> It’s not perfect and it might never be, but thanks to someone giving me a push this is finished. And it’s there in all it’s frustrating glory.
> 
> Fanfic is about writing, it’s about storytelling but it’s also about progress. What I would write today I wouldn’t write six months ago and who knows where I will be six months from now?
> 
> Thank you disenchantedGlow for giving me the kick I needed to finish this truly and fully. 
> 
> This came out of a hard time in my life. Covid had just gotten really bad and I was trapped or at least it felt like it. Nearly six months later still trapped, but seeing that I am still here and alive because of it.
> 
> Where a mask people, and trans lives do matter

“Enjoy life. There’s plenty of time to be dead.” Hans Christan Anderson

Fifteen Years Later

Time had passed both quickly and slowly for Hermione and Severus. Rose Eileen was fourteen now and rather quick with a wand if her mother did say so herself. Their first child was just like her father, stubborn as a bloody mule and as hard-headed as she could possibly be. Rose was top of her class in her Muggle high school, while Hermione taught at the middle school connected to it. History hadn’t been something that she ever imagined that she would teach, or even that Hermione ever thought that she would teach at all. But, doing so meant that Hermione could actually help people, but there was no strong desire to use magic.

If the two of them had their choice of jobs, Severus admitted that he would have preferred to work as a doctor, making up for his mistakes of the past, but they couldn’t use magic, on the Muggles, or to help them. No matter how desperate the situation was. They raised their children with the same understanding. Magic was for learning; potions heal them, spells and curses were only for their protection. 

Severus had also found a safe profession. He too seemed to have a desire to make the world a better place. As shocking as that might seem to some who knew him what felt like a lifetime ago. Severus had become a chemist or as they called it here a pharmacist. He was running a quiet little shop, which wasn’t unlike the potion’s shop that he long ago dreamed of having.

Their lives seemed utterly perfect, well, besides one small detail. Hermione heard the slamming of a door upstairs in its frame; the sound echoed through the house like a thunderstorm. That was their second child. Hermione wouldn’t think of Hugo as their problem child. Children were not trouble or problems, having said so many times to both her fellow teachers and parents.

Hugo had struggles that Hermione couldn’t begin to understand most days, as desperately as she tried to. As hard as Severus tried to. If people could turn themselves into cats and potions could give you someone else’s face, why couldn’t a child be born the wrong gender?

The sound of heavy boots hitting the stairs behind Hermione’s shoulder filled her ears. Hugo had been born Hope Amanda, and the truth? That been hard for Hermione to let go of that. It was a name that she and Severus had picked out together, sitting there on the seashore, on one of the few sunny days in the Pacific Northwest. Hope because at one point so long ago hope was all they had and Amanda was her mother’s middle name. The grandmother that their children would never get to meet, and how heart-wrenching that fact was.

But, Washington State had become their home. Here they were like the pine trees that surrounded their home, with roots straight into the soil and strong. But, her son had chosen his own name. A name which felt right and comfortable to her son, so Hugo Augustus it was. Hermione could thank Severus for the latter, telling their boy it was a family name. 

Hugo grabbed the toast that she had left out for him, not even bothering to stop for one single second.

“Wait!” Hermione shouted, “I can drive you to school; we both are running late anyway.”

Hugo looked like the spitting image of his father. Long blue-black hair that always seemed to be falling into his dark brown, nearly black eyes. His skin was as pale as milk, limbs long and lean. Her son was colt-like in the same way her husband was and just as sullen when he wanted to be.

“Mum!” Hugo groaned, “ honestly, I can get there myself, and we aren’t running that late anyways.”

The mixture of both British words and Americanizations brought a smile to her face. This was the only home either of her children had ever known. That was both heartbreaking and wonderful in the same bloody breath. Hermione’s family were like some sort of patchwork quilt, patches of the life that they had lived and all the parts that made them who they were.

“It’s raining,” she said, and then took one last sip of her coffee before dumping the mug into the sink. “And I would rather drive you son. You have your appointment with your new doctor anyway.”

“It’s always raining,” he whined, with a tone that only a thirteen-year-old boy could muster. “So what does it matter?”

“Because I am your mother and I think it matters,” Hermione asserted throwing on her boots and pulling on her coat.

Sometimes she did not blame Severus for his displeasure of teenagers. Many times her children left her thinking, was I that bad? Hermione loved them, though, with every single bit of herself. Her husband felt the same though he thought it far easier to show it through his actions than his words. But, that was just the way he was, and she loved him all the same.

“But, Mum!” 

“Quit with your gripping, the more you gripe the later we will be,” she muttered, helping her son into his coat. “Now, off we go.”

Together they walked out of their home, and into the lite drizzling rain. Hermione could already feel her curls starting to frizz under her hood. Hugo refused to pull his own up, another bit of teenager drama if she did say so herself. His hair was like blotted ink on his pale skin, clinging to her son’s face. Rose had already gone to school, already in her first class. English if Hermione remembered correctly, since it was a Monday.

They climbed into the small respectful red sedan. Not too big and not too small, easy to blend in, which is exactly what they needed to do. The Snape’s or as they were known here the Brandon’s as they were known here, were still fugitives in the British Wizarding World. Even if in the Muggle world, they were just like everyone else. Remus said they were like Refuges, but Hermione felt like they were in the witness protection program as odd as it may seem.

Hermione put the key into the ignition, while Hugo fiddled with the radio. Trying desperately to shove all thoughts of the past aside - none of that mattered now. All that she needed to deal with was being Hermione Brandon history teacher, mother of two and wife to Severus. They were the couple from Boston, who met while she was an undergrad and he was going back to school for a second career. He was from the east end of London, and she was from out in the country close to Scotland.

They were an odd pair, but it was clear to anyone who saw them that they loved each other and that’s all that truly mattered, didn’t it? Or at least that’s what Hermione told herself as she drove into work. Unable to shake the pressing feeling of doom that seemed to have sunk its claws into her shoulders when Hermione wasn’t watching. Trust your gut Sirius always used to tell her - it’s meant to keep you alive.

It was the chill causing her hair to stand on end, Hermione told herself not something perilous. Sirius was always a little paranoid, but so was Severus for that matter, and even she was to a point. It had been fifteen years, and surely any sane person would have given up by now. But, the truth is Voldemort wasn’t sane.

And he wasn’t the sweet innocent jolly kind of mad Luna Lovegood was.

The man who was more monster than a person, was an injured wolf waiting for the right time to strike out and get his revenge. Sane people might give up after fifteen bloody years, but the Dark Lord was not sane not by a long shot. Tom Riddle was also as cunning as a fox.

If he was the fox, then did that make them the rabbit?

Hermione had a job to do, and it was not thinking about a monster who made himself into a dictator and if she was Hitler was closer to who she should be thinking about. Her classes were after all learning about World War Two at the moment anyway, maybe that was what had her so bloody jumpy. Yeah, that was it. In a couple of weeks that we move to the next time period and everything would seem just a little bit less too close to home or at least Hermione hoped it would be. This happened every year since she started teaching this area of history.

But, even knowing that didn’t change what Hermione felt. This year just felt rawer for whatever reason.

*************************

The appointment went well or as well as it went. Hugo was itching for things his parents were not ready for, and his mother might never be prepared for. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand what her son was going through…But it still felt like a weight her child should not have to bear. Hermione, however, knew in her heart it wasn’t her choice to make and trying to hold her child back would only send him running away.

It was their job as his parents to help him become the person he wanted to be, not forcing Hugo to become the person his parents imagined he was going to become. Severus was silently making dinner, and Rose was talking to a friend of hers on her cell phone. The teenager was a social butterfly making plans to do things over the weekend, and her laughter boomed around the room.

“Did she finish her homework before calling Emily?” Severus asked Hermione.

“Nope,” she responded. “You want to be the bad cop or should I?”

“You, I need to finish dinner.”

“Rose, you have finished your homework?” Hermione asked, walking over to her daughter, hands on her hips.

“I am going to do it after dinner,” Rose snapped, her nose wrinkling like Severus’ always did. She said softer to her friend, “my mum is just being annoying Em, no worries.”

“Homework, Now, Rose,” Hermione growled. “You can talk to your friend later. After you finished your schoolwork.”

“But Mum!” She cried.

“No buts, tell her you to have to go.”

“Sorry Em, that’s what I get for having a teacher and a royal _ bitch  _ for a mother.”

“Rose Eileen Snape!” She snarled at her daughter, “up to your room, and you have lost phone privileges.”

Rose slammed the small grey cell phone into her mother’s hand. “I am not Rose Eileen Snape! The choices you and dad made sure of that! Because you couldn’t pick the bloody right side in the war.”

“Rose, don’t talk to you mother that way!” Severus snarled from the kitchen. “Every choice we have made was to keep you and your brother safe.”

“And yet we are neither magical, Muggle, or even Muggleborn father! We are nothing, and I am quite tired of being nothing.”

The teenager ran up the stairs to her room; a few seconds later, Hermione heard the girl’s bedroom door slam.

Hugo was sitting at the dining room table reading as if he had heard nothing. “I am sure she doesn’t mean it, mum and dad.” He said softly, “it’s just you guys got to grow up like every other witch or wizard, and while it doesn’t bother me much, it does bother Rose. I am used to being different from everyone and even in the wizarding world, I would still be, but she’s well, Rose. And she’s also being extra mean now because Jackson broke up with her. He kept going on about how he knew she was hiding something from him.”

************************

Hermione softly knocked on her daughter’s bedroom door. The girl had refused to come down for dinner when Hugo tried to convince her to join them. The children were more like twins than anything, barely fourteen months apart. It hadn’t been planned, but looking back she wouldn’t change a thing. However, Hermione barely remembered what it was like to be a teenager, and even if she did her years at Hogwarts did not prepare her for situations like this.

They prepared her to face dark lords and grown men wanting to kill you before you had even finished your schooling. They made ready for her face life being snuffed out before the person truly got to live. They left Hermione paranoid of what lurked in the shadows. Severus was no better and he didn’t pretend that wasn’t the case. Once in a blue moon, either of them would wake up to the sound of screams tearing through their throats. It seemed the act that they had tried to put on for their children that everything was alright desperately, and they simply had to do things a little different than everyone had failed.

“What do you want, Hugo?” Rose croaked. “I told you to leave me alone.”

“It’s mum, sweetheart,” Hermione said. “Can I come in?”

“Whatever,” she groaned. “I don’t care either way.”

Hermione opened the door, the knob twisting under her fingers. Rose was sitting in the window seat, staring out the window back to her mother. While Hugo looked like Severus Rose was a mixture of them both. She inherited her mother’s curls, the colour of them however like the darkest night from her father, her skin had a warm tone to it even in this dark place, and her eyes were the same as Hermione’s own father’s had been. They were like the deepest clearest of blues though she could see only the girl’s wild curls at this moment that stuck out in all sorts of directions just like her own.

“I brought you dinner, Rosie,” she mused, sitting down on her daughter’s bed. Her fingers are brushing against the dark purple sheets as she did so.

“I am not hungry, mum,” Rose said softly.

“Your dad…”

“Has his own poor eating habits and should understand why I am not going to eat it.”

Hermione sat the plate aside on her daughter’s nightstand. “Come here, Rose. Even if you aren’t going to eat, come sit over here, I would rather talk to your face instead of the back of your head.”

Rose sighed and then joined her mother on the bed; leaning her head into her mother’s shoulder.

“I am sorry, mum,” she said.

“So am I, sweetie,” Hermione whispered into her hair. “I know that our lives aren’t like everyone else and I am sorry that it is that way. The only thing we can do is take it one day at a time, and stick together. We are a team, and nothing is ever going to change that. Do you hear me? Nothing. Not even when you act like a brat.”

“I love you, mum.” Rose said with a sigh, “but now I think I need to just go to sleep.”

“I love you too, and I agree,” the mother added. “My own mum used to say everything will be better after a good night's sleep.”

Hermione tucked her daughter into bed under the comforter and then kissed her cheek. “Goodnight, Rose, and remember, I will always love you.”

Her daughter was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

**************************

Hermione curled into Severus, her head on his chest. It was evident by the sound of his breathing that he wasn’t asleep either, even though it was three am in the morning. Severus was staring at the ceiling fan above their heads, watching it spin. Hermione knew what he was thinking about the past with all its misgivings, the present with all the things that they had to do, and the future with all its uncertainty.

“Did we make the right choice?” Hermione asked him. “Living as Muggles instead of like how Tonks, Remus and Andromeda do?”

“I think we made the only choice we thought we had, Hermione,” Severus said, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “And no one should fault us for that. The life we have is a good one. Rose is just a teenager, and with time it will settle.”

“What about Hugo?” She turned to face him as she asked.

“As the doctor said, hormone blockers have no permanent effects and will give him time to decide what he would like to do.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” Hermione said, kissing his forehead.

“It should be me who is asking you that,” Severus murmured, tangling his fingers into her curls.

Hermione pulled him close, kissing her husband. His hands were snaking under her nightdress fingers, pressing his thumbs in her hips. They tried to lose themselves in each other. The simple things, the pure feelings of making love to something who knew you better than you knew yourself.

**************************

By the time that Hermione woke up, Severus was sitting on the edge of his bed pulling on his socks. His black hair was hanging down his narrow back, still wet from the shower. He was heading into work, and so should she. This was their life now, the life that they had created together. Not the one that they had planned or even one all those years ago that they would have laid out together, but this was their life. Severus’ and Hermione’s life.

It was the life that they had with their two lovely children, who would one day soon become adults.

Hermione dressed pulling on her clothes, getting ready for work. The evergreen dress Severus had gotten for her last Christmas and her old leather boots from what felt like another lifetime ago. Leather is like a map, a map of all the places you have been and a reminder of what you can survive. It could last a lifetime so long as you took care of it.

Severus stood at the counter, pouring himself a black cup of coffee, drinking it silently. The children both came down the stairs dressed, quickly getting out their breakfast. Hermione just watched them realising in that moment just how lucky she was.

Long ago, Hermione dreamed of many paths that her life would take and in the end, she was happy this is the one that it took. Severus kissed her cheek as he grabbed his keys.

“Have a good day love,” he said.

“You too,” Hermione said, smiling. “And I love you.

One day the world might come knocking, Hermione’s worry might come true but today was not the day. Today was a day just like any other day, and that was a rather wonderful thing. Sometimes the monsters under your bed, the shadows in the corner, and the creaking of the stairs were only figments of your own imagination, and you just had to remind yourself of that fact. Hermione thought as she did just that.

Sometimes people did get a chance at a new life even if it wasn’t always perfect. But, this life was better than the one they left behind. 

  
  
  



End file.
